A Rancher's Touch
by KittyoftheNight
Summary: After having her heart broken, Chris left to travel the states as a rancher. As a woman, work is hard, especially with sexist men like Curly Tyler. Can she find a way out? Can she live a dream that she was never a part of to begin with? GeorgeXOc
1. Chapter 1

**A Rancher's Touch**

**Chapter 1**

"Hey, Chris, would you mind goin' back and grabbin' me another bridal from the barn?" Slim asked.

"Yeah, sure," I said, setting my pitch fork down and out of the way.

To be honest, I was wondering when he was going to ask me that. The one that we had on our mule was about to snap and he didn't want to take any chances on the way back. I didn't mind so much though, since I needed to grab my canteen out of the bunk house anyway.

"You want one of the horses?" he asked, gesturing over to one of them.

"Nah, I'll just walk, but I am ridin' up front with ya when we head back for dinner," I said, a small smile on my face.

"Fine by me," he chuckled, turning his back to me as he served one of the guys some water.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," I told him, before walking off back toward the ranch.

Our team would be heading back toward the ranch soon, so I knew that I'd have to hurry up a bit. We needed a better bridal so that we could get our group back for supper.

I sighed though as I kept walking, pulling my hat down just a bit more to keep the sun out of my eyes. Today we were supposed to have a couple more guys come in, but they never showed. It left me a bit curious though, especially when the boss came in this morning madder than I'll get out. He'd hoped that they'd be there to go out with us this morning. That was neither here nor there though.

"Hey, Chris, where do you think you're going?" Curly called.

I groaned at this, simply ignoring him as I kept walking, the barn now in sight.

"Hey, I'm talkin' to you!" he yelled riding up behind me.

"Leave me alone Curly," I growled, marching forward as I kept my back to him.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" he yelled, getting annoyed with me.

At that, I whirled around, a glare set on my face as I stared at him.

"I said leave me alone!"

This kid always got on my nerves from the very first day I got here. He always thought that he was just so much better than me just because I was a woman. He didn't think I was any good and it got on my nerves. That and the fact that he thought he could boss me around all the time. He had another thing coming to him though if he thought I'd just let him push me over like that.

"Now, stay outta my face," I told him.

He didn't seemed to like this much and grabbed my arm, turning me around as he sat there on his horse.

"Let go of me," I said slowly, keeping my voice as even as possible.

If there was one thing that I didn't put up with, then it was having people like him touching me.

"Not until you listen to me," he barked, tightening his grip on me.

It hurt like hell, but I didn't let on, standing there quietly as he gripped it harder. I could only imagine what the guys would say if they saw this. Slim would probably get on him for it, same with Carlson. For the last three months that I'd been here, Slim had treated me like a daughter, trying his best to keep me out of harms way. Unfortunately this time, I'd have to deal with it myself.

"I said to let go of me," I repeated, trying to pull my arm away.

He just tugged me back though, so I hauled off and socked him one, knocking him off of his horse.

"Damn it!" he yelled, pushing himself up off of the ground.

I just ran forward toward the barn, quickly hiding away inside of it. I knew that he'd end up coming after me, so I grabbed one of the bridals off of the hooks and went out back.

T

"Here's the bridal," I muttered, handing it over to Slim as I walked up to him, gently rubbing my arm.

I swear, if it bruised, I'd be furious.

"You alright?" he asked, eyeing me for a moment as he took the bridal from my hand.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just had a run in with Curly," I told him, picking up my pitch fork and flinging some barley into the back of the wagon. "Ask me again in a few hours and I'll let you know," I said, my face scrunching up slightly as I swung another pile into the back.

"He bothers you again, you let me know, you hear?" he said, standing in front of me.

"Yeah, I'll be sure to let you know," I nodded, going back to work.

I'd be damned if I let myself get caught by Mr. Tyler not doing my job.

T

Pretty soon, everyone was back on the wagon and ready to head back for dinner. We were having beef stew for supper this time and I was starving after a few hours working in that hot sun.

"You ready to go Chris?" Slim asked, getting up in the drivers seat.

"Hell, yes," I breathed, climbing up beside him.

"Alright then, let's get going boys," he called, before giving the reigns a good click on the mules' backs.

A moment later, they were pulling us toward the ranch at a steady pace, the wagon wheeling along over the dusty ground.

"What's for supper this time?" I heard Carlson ask from behind me.

"Beef stew," I answered, turning in my seat a bit and letting my arm hang off the back of it.

"Sounds good," he grinned, rubbing his hands together for a moment.

I laughed at this, a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. I always have liked this bunch for the most part, that is, unless they're playing tricks on me. Slim only let them take it so far though, so normally there weren't many problems. I'd always manage to get them back though, occasionally taking one of their hats and hiding them or something, nothing real big though.

"Hey, what's he want?" I heard Jack ask, causing me to look around.

I found Curly walking toward us in irritation.

"Oh great," I groaned, rolling my eyes as he stopped beside us.

"What you want?" Slim asked, pulling at the reigns a few times to keep the mules in place.

"I don't want nothing from you," Curly spat, glaring my way. "I'm going to get you one of these times Kingston," he growled.

"Yeah, well, you better learn to keep your hands to yourself otherwise I'm gonna sock you one again like I did earlier."

At this, everyone starting laughing, realizing that I'd been the one to leave the red mark on Curly's face. I'd made sure to hit him pretty good and apparently I did my job.

"Just leave the girl alone," Slim told him, earning a glare of his own this time.

"I'll get you later," Curly called, before marching off toward the house.

Everyone howled with laughter as they watched him walk off, a grown man. He was a grown man and he'd got socked by a girl. Not to mention, he fought in the ring, so it made it all the more funny in everyone's eyes.

"Damn, I knew I liked this girl," Carlson chuckled, patting me on the back.

"Come on lay off," I smiled, shaking my head as I jumped down, heading toward the bunk house. "I'll see you guys in a minute, I gotta go change my shirt."

As I got closer though, I saw Curly's wife walking out of it, a smile on her face.

"What have I told you about coming into our bunk house?" I asked, placing my hands on hips.

"I was just looking for Curly," she said sweetly. "The boys in there were real nice though," she grinned, quickly walking off past me.

"Boys?" I spoke out loud, my brows knitting together in confusion.

No one should be in there except for maybe Candy, but I saw him walking off somewhere anyway.

"I don't like this place," I heard someone say as I walked in, finding myself face to face with two newcomers.

The moment I walked in though, their eyes flew toward me, just staring at me.

"Can I help you?" I heard one ask.

"Um, yeah, who are you?" I asked, giving him a questionable look.

"George Milton," he answered simply, fixing a blanket on his bed.

My eyes then traveled over to the other guy. His friend seemed to notice and answered before I could even ask.

"That's Lennie Small," he answered.

"I see," I nodded, walking over to my bunk and kneeling down.

He had taken up one of the two that had been empty next to mine.

"And who are you then?" George asked, eyeing me for a moment as I pulled a button up shirt from under my bed.

"The names Chris, Chris Kingston," I said, introducing myself to him as I held my hand out.

He took hold of it, shaking it easily in his.

"Nice to meet you Miss, but would you mind telling me what you're doin' in here?" he asked gently, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Well, I sleep in here," I laughed.

This seemed to catch him off guard, but I expected as much. There weren't many women that worked on ranches and he'd obviously never had to bunk with one before either.

"Don't worry, I don't bite. All I ask is that you keep your hands to yourself," I joked, though serious about the last part.

That's all that I asked of anyone around here, just to keep their hands to themselves. He seemed slightly taken back when I said this though, so I knew that I had to explain myself.

"Sorry, it's nothing personal, I ask the same of everyone," I told him, carefully pealing my button up shirt from my torso, leaving me in a white wifebeater like all the others.

I winced when I moved my left arm though, looking down at it. It was already starting to bruise a bit, leaving behind a hand print that was Curly.

"Damn bastard," I grumbled.

Again, both eyes were on me, leaving me a bit uncomfortable.

"Somethin happen?" George asked, keeping his eyes on my upper arm.

I just pulled on another shirt, buttoning it up and leaving the first few unbuttoned.

"Yeah, somethin happened," I nodded, rolling my shoulder for a moment before straightening my shirt out. "Curly happened," I told him, walking toward the door. "Anyway, you boys better hurry up, foods on the tables," I told them, putting on a friendly smile.

With that, I walked out of the bunk house and toward the other guys, quickly grabbing a bowl and some stew. The bread had already been laid out on the table, so I sat down at the end, grabbing a nice sized piece for myself. I could even smell the aroma of the stew as I sat there, the smell filling my senses with bliss.

"This smells so good," I smiled, shoveling a spoonful into my mouth.

"She's pretty," I heard Lennie say quietly as he sat down in front of me with George.

I swear, my whole face went red when I heard him say it, finding myself nearly choking on my food as well. George quickly scolded him for it though, seeing how embarrassed it made me.

To be honest, I'd never done well with complements. I mean, after getting my heart broken the way that I did, I didn't much care for how I looked anymore. That was also the reason why I took to ranching a few years ago, never staying in one place for too long because something stupid would always happen there between me and one of the guys. At the moment though, the only that bugged me was Curly.

"Don't worry, he's fine," I assured him, scratching at my cheek.

I then looked down at my plate, soaking up the soup into a piece of my bread.

Before I knew it, Slim was sitting down with us and making conversation with the two newcomers.

"You the new guys?" Slim asked, taking a place beside George.

"Yeah," George answered, looking up from his food.

"I'm Slim," he said, introducing himself. "You're gonna be on my team," he told him.

"I'm George Milton. This here's Lennie Small," George replied, introducing himself and his friend like he had done with me not too long ago in the bunk house.

"You travel around together?" Slim asked, looking between George and Lennie.

"Yeah," George nodded.

"There ain't many guys that travel around together," Slim voiced, bringing his cup to his lips. "I don't know why. Everybody in the whole world's just scared of each other."

"Maybe," George agreed.

I couldn't help, but to laugh at this in agreement as well, thinking the same thing myself.

"So, you ever bucked barley before?" he asked, turning his eyes onto George for a moment, his spoon coming up for a bite.

"Hell, yes," George said, before taking a bite of his own. "I ain't nothing to scream about…but Lennie's strong as a bull," he told him, gesturing toward Lennie.

This made me curious, but only just. I'd heard many people say the same thing at times and they were false. It just made me wonder what I'd see this time.

"Good," Slim breathed. "I got a pair of punks on my team. They don't know a barley bag from a blue ball," he chuckled.

I had to cover my mouth in order to stifle a laugh this time at Slim's statement. Unfortunately, what he said was true though, we really did have a couple of idiots on our team. Hell, I didn't even know how they managed to stay on here at times.

As soon as he finished saying that though, Carlson came over and sat down, making Jack scoot down a bit so that he could sit next to me.

"These guys just came," Slim announced, watching as Carlson looked at the two in front of him for a short moment.

After that though, I sort of tuned everything out, concentrating on eating my food instead. I couldn't help, but to look up at George every now and then. There was just something about his eyes that caught my attention. It was the one thing about people that I always noticed, their eyes. Carlson's were a medium pale looking blue. Slim's were gentle, a dark blue ring around the outside, while the rest molded into a beautiful crystal blue. When I looked at George though, I found his to be a pair of striking midnight blue. I'd never seen eyes like his before, something that seemed so raw, yet beautiful at the same time. Then, there was Lennie. From what I could tell, he too had blue eyes, but they were mixed with green and brown. Hell, even though Curly was a pain, I still took notice to his too. The only thing was, Curly's eyes always looked glassy to me, like a doll's. That in itself was a bit unnerving, something that was always watching you. It was also why I'd never liked dolls.

**Okay, this is my first Of Mice And Men story. I hope everyone likes it, I really do. Anyway, please remember to REVIEW and MESSAGE me. Ideas are always welcomed. Thanks everyone. Also, don't forget to check my PROFILE for other stories that you might like. I've plenty more.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A Rancher's Touch**

**Chapter 2**

After we were all done with supper, we headed back out to the fields, everyone pilling into the wagon. I merely seated myself next to Carlson since Mike decided to sit up front with Slim, sitting up on the edge of the wagon's side. Jake was sitting down inside next to my right, while George and Lennie ran forward, jumping onto the end and letting their legs dangle down over the edge.

"Come on, get up," George said, helping Lennie on.

The guy nearly sat on him when he got on, leaving George to push him off of his leg. I couldn't help, but to laugh quietly. They really did seem like an odd pair.

T

"Hey, get a look at that over there," I heard one of the guys nearby say.

I looked over to where he was pointing, finding Lennie tossing a barley bag into the back of the wagon without any trouble.

"Wow," I breathed, blinking a few times as I watched him grab another with ease.

It didn't even look like he struggled any with the thing and it was only him. He had no help with it at all. I guess George wasn't kidding when he said that Lennie was as strong as a bull. The man could practically beat the other two at their own game at the pace he was moving at. I even saw George and Slim watching him, smiles on their faces.

"Man that guy is strong," I laughed, wiping my brow before taking a drink from my canteen.

I pulled it away from my lips a moment later, easily making my way over to George. He was up in the wagon, feeding barley into the machine. It was obvious he was working just as hard as Lennie was up there, sweat dripping from his brow as the sun beat down on his head.

"George, heads up!" I called, tossing my canteen up to him.

He caught it with ease, giving me an appreciative nod in return.

"Thanks," he said, taking a well earned drink from it.

It was hot, so I figured he'd be wanting a drink to cool off. After all, I'd do exactly the same thing for any of the others in my bunk house. The lot of them were rather nice men, so I didn't mind lending a hand in kindness.

"I'll pick it up from here Pete, you go get yourself a drink before you end up falling over," I laughed, gathering up the barley around me and placing it in piles.

The man gave me a nod in return, before making his way over to Slim, and serving himself a cup of water. Last thing that we needed was someone down on the job. Not to mention, Pete really needed the money, so I wasn't going to let something happen to him.

T

As Chris walked away, George found himself watching after her. He caught the friendly smile on her face as she left, her hair blowing up a bit in the slight breeze.

He had to admit, she seemed nice enough, but he knew that looks could be deceiving. That didn't exactly mean that she was, but he didn't know her well enough yet.

Looking down at the canteen in his hand, he had a feeling that she'd be safer than Curly's wife at least, that was for sure. At least she was a fellow rancher, so he doubted that he'd have much to worry about. Lennie wouldn't get in not trouble because of her. He knew that he'd have more trouble with Curly than anything else, so she was the least of his worries for the moment.

"She's a pretty little thing ain't she?"

"Huh?" George looked down, finding one of the other men staring off at her, his eyes large and hungry.

George merely snorted at this, watching on with a look of distaste on his face.

"I'd like me some of that, what about you?" he asked.

"She may be pretty," George nodded, glancing back at her with his hands perched on top of his pitch fork, before continuing. "But she ain't no piece of meat," he stated, tossing some more barley into the machine.

He may not have had the chance to get to know her yet, but he still had a bit of respect for her. After all, she was working on a ranch with nothing, but men all around her. Something like that took guts and he could respect that. Not to mention, it was obvious that she wasn't like any other woman around. No, Chris was different, she stood out.

T

"Alright, who did it?" I asked, walking back into the bunk house more than a bit annoyed.

"Who did what?" Slim asked, looking up from the game of cards he was currently playing.

"My shirts," I stated, narrowing my eyes at two possible suspects in the room. "I hung 'em up to dry and now they're gone."

Once again, I had to deal with their little pranks. I could understand them bugging the crap out of me from time to time because I'm a woman, but there were times where I just wasn't in the mood for it. After all, I needed something to keep warm than just my undershirt, even if they did find pleasure in seeing me in that. That wasn't my problem though, finding my shirts was. When I went to grab my jacket though, that's when my face went really red.

"Damn it, come on!" I cried, kicking at the floor board, before turning around to glare at the lot of them. "It's one thing to take my shirts, but my jacket?"

Jake and Whit had to stifle a laugh as they looked over at me, eyes glistening with laughter.

"Come on, I'm cold," I whined, feeling a shiver run down my spine a moment later.

"I don't know why you're tellin us," Whit chuckled, a grin on his face.

"You're a part of this, I know you are, you and Jake both," I growled, slowly starting to get fed up with their crap.

It was always the same no matter where I went, I was always the butt of a joke or prank. Didn't seem to matter where I was, it was always the same. No one ever felt the need to help or prevent it, they just let it happen. Yeah, sure, Slim would normally help or stop it if he knew about it. Carlson would normally let things play through though unless they went too far with something, but other than that, no one ever did a damn thing.

"Here," George said, pulling his jacket from the bed and holding out to me.

"Ah, come on man, why you gotta ruin all the fun?" Jake asked from his spot at the table.

He hadn't expected George to be so kind and to be honest, neither had I. I mean yeah, I could tell that he was a nice guy, tolerable and moral for the most part. I hadn't expected him to be so chivalrous though, standing up where others wouldn't.

"Take it," he said, his hand still held out toward me.

"You don't have to," I told him, watching as the corner of his mouth twitched upward a bit, a faint laugh rumbling from his chest.

He didn't give me room to argue, before throwing it at me. I suppose it was a way to quiet things down, but I had a feeling that it was a bit more than that. Perhaps he was merely returning the favor that I had done for him earlier, but I couldn't be sure.

"You two had better watch yourselves," I said, pointing over at Jake and Whit.

Then, without bothering to grab anything else, I walked out with George's jacket in hand into the cool night air.

I didn't feel like standing around in there with everyone staring at me. It was unnerving, having all those eyes on me.

"Damn bastards, always playing tricks on me," I grumbled, kicking at the dirt.

I watched as it flew up in the air, the little pieces falling back down to the ground. I shivered again, looking down at George's jacket. The material was soft, even if it was well worn. The man had likely had it for the better part of five to ten years if I had to guess. I sighed once I put it on, finding it warmer and mine.

A small smile worked its way onto my face, a genuine smile.

T

"Say, why do you guys pick at her so much?" George asked, sitting up on his bunk.

His eyes traveled around the room once or twice before anyone spoke up.

"It's just fun to see her all rialed up, that's all," Jake chuckled, his eyes flitting over to the door for a moment, before looking back down at his cards.

"Don't worry about it too much George," Slim said, offering him a small smile. "She's pretty much used to it by now. She just gets annoyed from time to time," he told him, placing a card out on the pile.

"She'd better be after dealing with these two idiots for three months straight," Carlson chuckled.

He was placed by the back door as usual, just standing there and reading by the light.

"She been here that long?"

"Yep, can't imagine why though with all the crap she has to put up with," Slim commented, sitting all his cards down for a moment as he lit a cigarette.

It was silent for a moment, not a word being spoken. That was, until that heard a yell from outside.

"Damn it all!"

"Guess she found 'em," Jake snickered.

"The hell did you two put 'em?" Slim asked, standing up and walking toward the door.

George followed after him, curious to see what had happened.

"Just havin a little fun is all," Jake assured him, standing up to take a look outside.

T

"Jake! Whit! I swear to God if you don't get out here right now, I'm gonna sock both of ya!" I yelled.

Those idiots had tossed my stuff up on top of the bunk house. I mean yeah, they'd done stupid crap before, but this took the cake.

"Jake!" I screamed, hands shaking as I stood there.

I don't even know why I was yelling at him so much. It was likely Whit's idea to begin with.

"We're comin, we're comin," he laughed, walking outside.

The others followed behind him, Whit included. I swear, it looked like a couple of them were about to bust out laughing.

At this point, others had come out of their bunk houses to find out what all the racket was. I could feel my eyes well up a bit as they started laughing, seeing what the commotion was all about. It was likely that a few of them had already known about it and were just coming out to watch.

I felt my eyes narrow when I caught Jake in my sight, quickly leaning down and grabbing a rock in my hand. A moment later, it was sent flying, nearly hitting him in the head. It would have too if he hadn't gone ahead and moved.

"Come on, Christine, it was just a joke," Jake chuckled, keeping his eyes pealed for another rock.

"Don't call me Christine!" I yelled, outraged by hearing the name.

I hated it when people called me by my real name. It was a sore reminder of my past.

"If I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times, it's Chris!" I shouted.

All I heard was more laughter, my eyes flitting all over the place at the faces around me. Granted, I'd had worse, far worse. I had a couple idiots at my last job that thought it funny to steal my bra and string it up on the flag pole for all to see. That had been the worst out of any prank they'd pulled.

"Damn it!" I cried, before throwing another rock at him.

After that, I walked off toward the fields, bound and determined to get away from them all.

T

"Whit, Jake, I suggest the two of you get up there and get her stuff down," Slim said, moving to go after her.

"Aw, come on Slim, it was just a joke. Besides, it's late," Jake whined.

"Yeah, well you should have thought of that earlier when you made the decision to pull this crap," he pointed out.

They both whined, but listened nonetheless as they tried going around back.

"George, ya mind goin with me to look for her?" Slim asked, glancing over at the small man.

"Yeah, sure, why not," he shrugged, moving his way toward him.

With that, they walked off toward the fields, intent on finding her and bringing her back.

**Alright everyone, there's chapter 2. I hope that everyone liked it? Please, remember to REVIEW and MESSAGE with your thoughts, opinions, ideas and feelings on this story/chapter. I really hope to get some feedback on this one. Thanks everyone and don't forget to check out my PROFILE. I've got stuff for XMEN, FINAL FANTASY, ROBINHOOD: PRINCE OF THEIVES, LABYRINTH, OUTSIDERS and MORE! Thanks everyone!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A Rancher's Touch**

**Chapter 3**

"Alright now, I'll take this side, you take that one. We'll probably find her near around one of the trees," Slim said.

"Alright," George nodded.

From there, they made quick work in checking their sides of the field, keeping their eyes pealed for any sign of her.

T

"Damn it to hell!" I cried, kicking harshly at the ground.

It always happened, no matter what I did, it never changed. At one point in my life, I could count on one hand the number of pranks people had played on me. Now, I'd completely lost count, I couldn't even remember how many at this point.

"It never changes," I whispered, letting my nails dig into the bark of the tree in front of me.

So many times I had been embarrassed, humiliated. So many times I had been hurt. You'd think that I'd be used to it by now, but I wasn't, far from it actually. It still bothered me, even if I didn't always let on. It still bothered me that they always took it out on me. Just like how Curly would come after me at times, but he was more physical than anything. I could deal with that, I could put up with it, but not all these damned pranks and jokes.

"Chris?"

"The hell do you want now?" I yelled, whirling around to face the guy.

I stopped when I saw who it was, quickly regretting my words.

"G-George, I…I didn't mean…I…" I sighed, resting my head against the tree.

I hadn't meant to go off on him of all people. I felt even worse as I watched him stand there, mouth clamped shut, eyes never wavering.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, unable to look at him.

"It's alright," he said, carefully taking a step forward.

"I…I didn't mean to go off on you like that," I told him, feeling the corners of my eyes well up.

"Mind tellin me what happened back there?" he asked, completely forgetting that I'd even raised my voice at him just a few moments ago.

"I…" I stood there for a moment, glancing down at the ground.

He waited patiently for me to continue, slowly taking a few more steps toward me. I didn't even bother to move as he drew closer, finding no need to budge. I saw no threat in his progressive steps.

"It's always the same," I mumbled, looking over at him as I pressed my cheek into the rough bark of the tree.

"What do you mean?" he asked carefully, leaving us roughly two to three feet apart now.

"Why do you want to know anyway?" I asked softly, finding myself locking eyes with him for a few moments.

"Perhaps I'm curious as to how a nice girl like you ended up as a ranch hand with the rest of us," he shrugged.

I felt a small snort escape me as he said this, laughing faintly afterward.

"You know," I pushed away from the tree, turning my back to him for a moment as I wrapped my arms around myself, his jacket shielding me from the night air. "Slim asked me the same thing about three months ago."

"You ever give him a straight answer?" he asked, a bit a humor in his eyes.

"Yeah, I suppose I did," I breathed, closing my eyes for a moment, before turning back around. "You wouldn't know by lookin at me, but I was engaged once if you can believe it."

A faint laugh escaped my lips, but there was no humor in it, no joy. It was sad, lonely even.

"Came home one evening, found him with another woman flopping around in my bed," I said quietly, my mind going back to that night.

I'd say it was probably about eight years ago. I was 18 then, getting ready for marriage. I thought he loved me, but I found out otherwise when I'd come home. He'd had the nerve to go at it with her in my own bed, my bed of all things.

"She was a pretty little thing. Blond hair, blue eyes, real easy," I choked out, squeezing my eyes shut.

He still stood there, listening quietly to every word I said, taking it all in.

"He just sat there and smiled…wasn't even bothered at the fact that I'd just walked in on them havin a bit of fun," I whispered, running a hand through my hair.

"Sounds like one cheap bastard," George voiced, making me laugh.

"I suppose he was, huh?"

I caught his eyes this time, just drinking them in. There was something about him, his presence, something about it was calming and friendly.

"After that, I up and left. Haven't been back in eight years," I told him, rubbing my arms a bit. "Been ranchin ever since."

"And the ring on your finger?" he asked.

I looked down at my right hand, a small smile forming on my face.

"Heh, my mother's," I said, running a finger over it. "Now, why don't you tell me somethin about yourself," I said, feeling that I'd said enough about myself for a time.

"There's not much to tell," he said with a shrug.

"There's gotta be somethin," I offered, watching him shift his weight to the other foot, his eyes cast elsewhere.

"You know, I won't bite," I said softly, offering him a small smile.

I heard him chuckle for a short moment, before he brought his eyes back to mine.

"What do you wanna know?" he asked, folding his arms loosely over his chest.

"I don't know, anything. Where do ya come from?" I asked, going back to leaning against the tree.

"A little place in Dakota," he said. "You?"

"Kansas."

"Once a southern girl, always a southern girl," he chuckled.

"Don't you know it."

I could feel myself smiling as I stood there, feeling more at ease than I had in a while.

"How'd you and Lennie end up together? I heard the boss sayin somethin about you guys bein cousins, but I don't buy it."

It was true though, something just didn't set right about it and I knew it couldn't be. Yes, something told me that they were close, but they weren't cousins.

"Well, you're right, we're not cousins."

"Then how?" I asked, finding myself fairly curious.

"Well, I knew his aunt Clara, promised I'd watch after him," he started, taking a moment to look up at the sky. "So when she died, Lennie came along with me workin," he said, reaching up scratching at the space between his jaw and ear.

"So, that's how it is," I smiled, turning my eyes toward the sky. "You know, you're like Slim, easy to talk to," I said, staring up at the stars.

Slim had always been easy to talk to. He was a swell guy and now I'd found myself talking to one just as good from what I currently knew.

"I hope that I can trust you to keep quiet about all this," I asked, turning toward him.

He stood there for a moment, locking eyes with me, glistening in the moonlight. I wasn't sure which I like more, seeing them by daylight or night.

"Sure," he nodded, the corner of his lips pulling into a small smile. "Sure."

I smiled a bit more as I walked toward him, standing in front of him. He stared at me for moment, just watching as I stood there.

"Thank you, George," I whispered, leaning up and kissing his cheek softly, a faint roughness brushing my lips.

After that, I walked back toward the bunk house, pulling his jacket tighter around myself.

T

"Hey, George, did ya find her?" Slim called, walking toward him.

"Yeah, I found her. She went back to the bunk house though," he said, scratching lightly at his cheek where she had kisses him.

He'd never actually gotten close to a girl before, so something like this was rather new to him. Sure, Lennie's aunt Clara had kissed him on the cheek a few times before, but that was different. This wasn't aunt Clara anymore, no, this was Chris. Chirs Kingston.

"Well, I'm gonna head back and check on her then. You comin?" Slim asked, eyeing the smaller man for a moment, taking in the hand on his face.

"Yeah, I'm comin," he nodded, moving to follow him as he they made toward the bunk house.

When they got back, it was quiet for the most part. Candy was laid up on his bed sleeping, Whit and Carlson were at the table playing cards, Jake was nowhere to be found, and Lennie was set on his bed merely watching in curiosity as the young girl sleep. She was just laying there on her bed, George's jacket on top of her like a blanket. It was obvious to Slim and anyone else that knew her that she was fast asleep, with her head tilted toward George and Lennie's side away from the light. She was at peace.

"George?"

It was Lennie, his voice holding an obvious question behind him.

"What is it?" he asked, his eyes flitting toward the large man that he'd traveled with for so long.

"Why she have your jacket George?" he asked, giving him a curious look as he sat there on his bunk.

"She was cold," he replied simply.

"She don't look cold George," Lennie pointed out, eyeing the young woman for a moment.

"That's because she has it around her, it's keepin her warm," he stated, shaking his head for a moment at the man.

Sometimes the most obvious of things could be so oblivious to Lennie.

"It's keepin her warm?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Yes Lennie," George sighed, running a hand through his short brown hair.

He was getting tired of these questions of his. Then again, he knew that Lennie didn't know no better.

"So she not cold then?"

"No Lennie."

"George?"

"Lay down Lennie," George said, moving over to his bunk.

"Alright everyone, lights out," Slim announced, before going and cutting the lights.

From there, everyone went to their beds, laying down for a nights sleep.

"George?" Lennie called quietly, looking over at his friend.

"What is it Lennie?"

"She's pretty," Lennie said quietly.

George sighed at this, before laying down on his bed. It was the second time that Lennie had said such a thing and it was starting to bother him.

"Don't cause her no trouble," he said firmly, turning over on his side to face him.

"I won't George," Lennie assured him.

"Now, go to sleep," he said.

"I'm sleeping George."

With that, Lennie closed his eyes to sleep, leaving George to his own thoughts as he laid there.

**Okay everyone, that was chapter 3. I hope that everyone liked it? Please, remember to REVIEW and MESSAGE me with your thoughts, ideas, opinions, and feeling on this story/chapter. I'd love to hear feedback because it helps me write and keeps my spirits up. Also, don't forget to check out my PROFILE for other stories that you might like like X-MEN (GAMBIT), FINAL FANTASY (VINCENT VALENTINE), OUTSIDERS (DARRY CURTIS), ROBINHOOD: PRINCE OF THEIVES (WILL SCARLET), and much MORE!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A Rancher's Touch**

**Chapter 4**

As morning rolled around, so came the birds, their chirping making their way into the bunk houses of the ranch. This also signaled the time to wake up, pulling the men from their beds, and toward the tables for breakfast.

T

"Come on, time to wake up Chris."

It was Carlson telling me to wake up as he kicked at my bed a few times.

I just groaned in response, not wanting to get up quite yet.

"Come on, get up," he said, before grabbing my pillow and pulling it out from under my head.

"Damn it Carlson," I groaned, finally sitting up.

He just grinned at me before tossing it back at me and leaving the room.

I shook my head at this as I got up, shivering at the coolness of the bunk house. It was always chilly to a degree in the early morning, so I always had to wear my jacket. It was then that I was reminded of who's I held. I still had George's jacket and he no doubt would be a bit cold. Although, when I looked around, I found him to be absent from my view. What I did notice though, was my shirts and jacket at the end of my bed.

"Damn," I groaned, finding them to be dirtier than before.

I could only imagine what was on top of the roof, especially since the thing was flat. The guys had undoubtedly tossed them up there when they were still wet and now they looked down right disgusting. My jacket was perfectly fine though, it just had to be dusted off a bit and then it'd be good to go.

So, without further thought, I grabbed my stuff and headed out of the bunk house. My only problem was that if I wanted to get my shirts cleaned and hung, I'd likely have to skip breakfast so that they'd have time to dry.

"Damn it…" I sighed, making my way over to the tables.

If I couldn't have anything else, then I'd at least get some bread to eat.

"Hey, Whit!" I called, walking up to everyone.

"Yea-Ow!" he cried, rubbing the back of his head where I'd just hit him. "What was that for?" he whined.

"That, is for making me miss breakfast," I said flatly.

"Breakfast? But you're standing right here," he exclaimed, looking at me like I'd lost my mind.

"Yeah and now I have to miss it because my shirts are disgusting," I said in disgust, holding them up for everyone to see. "You idiots threw them up there when they were still wet."

After I said that, it seemed to click as he inclined his head. These guys knew that breakfast was probably the most important meal of the day. It's when you started off, getting the energy to work out in the hot sun.

"Oh yeah, here's your jacket back George," I said, holding it out to him.

He nodded in thanks, standing up to take it and put it on. I could tell he was a lot more comfortable now with having his jacket on.

"Don't worry Slim, I'll be done by the time you're ready to head out," I said, quickly grabbing up a piece of bread and walking off.

T

"Well, you two seem to be on pretty good terms," Carlson commented, before taking a drink of water.

"We are," George replied simply, taking a bit of food.

He wished that Chris would have been able to sit with them and eat, but he knew that she had to scrub her shirts out if she wanted to have anything to wear later.

"George?" Lennie piped up, looking at his friend as he paused in his meal.

"What Lennie?" he responded, turning his head to look at him.

"Why she no eat?" he asked, obviously confused when she had walked off.

"Because Lennie, she needs to wash her clothes," George explained, trying to go back to eating.

"But I thought everyone did that yesterday."

Laughter sprouted around the table after that, Lennie merely adding a friendly smile to it. Even with that thought, George still found his eyes traveling far over to the wash house where Chris sat with a basin of water in front of her, her face scrunched up as she scrubbed her clothes. He could only imagine how bad they were after sitting up on a flat roof the way that they had.

T

I groaned as I sat there scrubbing away at my shirts. They were just plain nasty. I was just glad that I hadn't decided to wash my jacket as well, otherwise there'd be some serious problems.

I could feel my fingers tingling as I sat there, the cold air of the morning attacking what were now prunes in my eyes. It was then that I heard someone mutter something about women, likely because of the fact I was trying to scrub my shirts clean.

Before I knew it though, it was time to go and I was hanging my shirts up to dry. I'd barely even touched the bread because I'd been too preoccupied with getting them clean. This left my stomach growling painfully as I walked toward the wagon, hat on my head as I began to nibble away at the bread. This was no way to start a morning of long work in the sun.

"So, you get them shirts of yours clean?" Slim asked, watching as I climbed up into the back and sat on the side of it.

"As best I could," I said, sitting across from George.

Lennie got in behind him, sitting beside him. Then, right after Slim handed Lennie a large canteen full of water, Curly showed up. He stopped his horse right behind George and Lennie, causing both of them to turn their heads and look behind them as he spoke.

"He talkin today?" Curly asked, staring George down all the while.

"No, he ain't talkin. He's too busy workin," Slim said, moving to make toward the front of the wagon.

At this, Lennie moved closer to George, slowly placing his hand behind his back and gripping the fabric of his jacket.

"Is he a good worker?" Curly piped up again, showing no sign of leaving.

"Best I ever had," Slim said.

"What about his partner?" Curly asked quickly, pointing to George who's back was now to him as Slim made to climb up in the front seat.

Slim stopped at that point and turned to look at him, giving him a skeptical look.

"What about him?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Is he a good worker?" he asked again. "My old man wants to know." He added.

"Yeah, he's a good worker," Slim said, before climbing up into the wagon's driver seat.

A couple of the guys smiled at this, I merely tried to avoid eye contact with Curly as he glared at me. Nobody else paid him any mind though as he sat there for a moment, Slim yelling at the mules to get going. After Carlson jumped up on the back though, Curly finally started moving again, riding up behind us, before making his way over to my side. Lennie seemed to be watching him the whole time as he kept close to George.

It wasn't until a couple minutes later though that I felt a hard tug on my hat behind me, a feeling of falling rushing over me, my eyes going wide. It was like no one even realized what had happened as I went backwards, until someone reached out and grabbed hold of my wrist, quickly tugging me back before I could fall out of the wagon.

Everyone around me was stunned as they sat there, watching as I came face to face with George. He'd managed to grab hold before it was too late, something that likely would have ended me with a broken neck or something if I had landed wrong.

It wasn't until I heard laughing though that I stood up, making to jump out of the wagon. That was cut short though as Carlson twisted around and grabbed me by the back of my pants and tugged me down. As a result, I ended up landing on George and Lennie, my face going red when I found an arm being wrapped around me.

"What the," I started, only to stop when I noticed it was Lennie, that one arm keeping me in place like a doll.

I tried to get up, but his arm wouldn't budge.

"Lennie, let me go," I said quietly, making to moving.

He just held tighter as though scared for some reason.

"George," I groaned, turning to look at him.

At this, he gave Lennie a look, before telling him to let me go. He said something, reminding him about no trouble and that was all that it took before he let me go, looking down at his feet.

"T-thanks," I mumbled, taking my seat back next to Mike.

I was a bit shaken for a few moments as I sat there, just rubbing my arms. I wasn't used to being touched like that or really having a guys arm around me holding me still. It reminded me too much of my ex at times and that's why I tried to avoid it as much as possible.

T

When we got to the fields, everyone piled out of the wagon. One by one they got off, leaving me standing there at the end. I just sighed and made my way to the edge, intent on getting out before George appeared in front of me, his hand offered in help.

"Thanks," I said, giving him a small smile as I took his hand, placing my other one on his shoulder before jumping down.

Something like that made it a lot easier when trying to get down, especially when you're short. That would always be something that I'd have to live with.

"And George?" I turned toward him for a moment as I stood there.

"Yes?"

His eyes met mine, easily meeting my gaze.

"Thank you," I said softly, before quietly turning around and walking off.

I had a job to do and I was going to do it, one way or another.

T

By the time I was done with my job, George was coming back with another mule. Slim had sent him off with Violet back to the stable because she had a sore foot and now he was returning. Although, when I looked more closely, it was obvious that there was something wrong. Then again, it might have just been me, but I was always very observant.

I went up to him after he handed the mule off to Slim, curious as to what had happened.

"Somethin happen down in the barn?" I asked, taking a swig of water from my canteen.

"Just Curly," he sighed, whipping his forehead.

The poor guy wasn't even wearing his hat.

"Don't tell me, his wife was in the barn talkin to ya, wasn't she?"

"How'd you know?" he asked, his brows furrowing in question.

I just sighed, before handing him my canteen. He needed the water as much as I did at the moment.

"That's how the last guy got canned," I started, rubbing the back of my neck.

It was sticky with sweat.

"She's done it to a few others, but the last one, Curly beat him up pretty good. The man is vicious with jealousy," I said with distaste. "That and his wife is always gettin guys in trouble whether she means to or not. Nearly did the same thing to me when I first got here."

He seemed curious about this so I continued.

"She thought I was just another 'good lookin guy'. Thought she'd chat me up a bit, flirt around I guess and try to get my attention. Nearly got me a broken nose for it too," I said, glaring at the memory. "Just do me a favor and stay away from her alright? I'd hate to see you gettin canned because of someone like her," I told him, watching as he took a few more drinks from the canteen.

Once he was done, he handed it back to me, a friendly smile on his face.

"You don't gotta worry about me none. I know well enough to steer clear of people like her," he said, pulling his pitchfork from the wagon.

"Good. Make sure it stays that way," I said, a faint laugh escaping my dry lips.

**Okay, that was chapter 4. I hope that everyone liked it? Please, remember to REVIEW and MESSAGE me with your thoughts, ideas, opinions and feelings on this chapter/story. I love to hear feedback. Thanks everyone. Chapter 5 should be out a little later today.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A Rancher's Touch**

**Chapter 5**

The day just flew by as everyone worked out in the fields and before we knew it, it was time to head in.

From the moment that we had gotten back, Lennie had gone back to the barn, laying down in the hay with his puppy. I'd even followed him, standing there and watching him as he played.

He reminded me of a small child, always happy and cheerful. He had the kindest smile and he just seemed so innocent. He actually reminded me of my kid brother when I was little. He'd found a dog once and brought him home. How he loved it so. The kid had always had a smile on his face, going outside to play with it. Before too long though, my brother had come down with a fever. It held strong and after two weeks of fighting he passed away. Our family was never the after that, even the dog had run off after his death.

"Hey there Lennie," I greeted, moving a bit closer.

His head shot up when he saw me, seeming slightly uncomfortable.

"Don't worry, I didn't come in here to cause no trouble," I said, holding my hands up in defense. "I just came in to check on the pups," I told him, offering him a smile as I sat down near him.

I could hear as the puppies whimpered and whined, wanting to find warmth by their mother. This made me smile as I reached over, picking one up in my hands. It was such a small little thing, but it was still bigger than Lennie's and moving around on it's own. It seemed friendly enough though as it licked at my hand, trying to gnaw on it at the same time.

"I like this one," Lennie said, holding his puppy in his arms.

"I can see why," I smiled, my eyes softening at the sight.

"He feels nice," he said, stroking the back of its neck.

For a big guy, he sure was gentle, a gentle giant.

T

Once it got a bit darker, I let the barn, telling Lennie to come in when he was done. He just smiled at me and nodded, going back to petting his puppy.

It wasn't too dark yet, so I could still see my way back, making my way over to the bunk house.

George and Slim were seated outside talking about nothing in particular really as I drew close, climbing up the steps.

"Lennie should be in before too long," I said, my eyes locking with George's.

"Thanks for watchin him," George nodded, offering me a grateful smile.

"No problem. He's a pretty nice guy anyway," I smiled, thinking back to my brother, before heading in.

After that, I just laid down on my bed, curling up on the mattress. It'd been years since I'd thought of my brother and yet here I was, doing it again. There was just something about Lennie that reminded me of him, even though he never got the chance to become a man. If he had, I probably wouldn't be where I was now, but that was neither here nor there.

By the time night had completely fallen on us though, I was dozing off, facing George and Lennie's bunks on my side. George and Slim had finally come in after sending Lennie back on his way, puppy in his arms.

I woke back up when I heard the faint creaking of George's bed, pealing my eyes open for a moment to glance at him.

Our eyes met as we set there, him on his bunk, me on mine. Once again, there was a current calmness in his eyes, his gaze putting me at ease. He then gave me a small nod as he pulled a magazine from his shelf, flipping it open to read it. My eyes just watched though, the feeling of sleep slowly taking over me again as I laid there. Before I knew it, my eyes were closed again, leaving me laying there in a half sedated slumber. I could still hear everything going on around me, my body not quite willing to surrender to full sleep just yet.

T

George watched as Chris laid there, her eyes trained on him though obviously wary from fatigue. He merely gave her a small smile as she stared, watching as her body seemed to relax a bit more. She was comfortable around him and he wanted to keep it that way, making it easier on both of them. He then watched as her eyes finally started to droop, the blue green orbs that were her eyes clouding over, before finally closing. By looking at her she seemed so fragile, but George knew otherwise. She was a strong woman who stood on her own and tried not to rely on anyone, but for some reason seemed to find comfort in his presence, similar to how she did with Slim.

"I swear, that girl never seems to get enough sleep," Carlson commented, earning him a curious look from George.

Slim knew what Carlson said was true though. Chris always worked so hard, trying harder than most of the guys. Then, she'd be up late doing other things around the ranch at times, whether it was helping Candy out or Crooks even. Either that or she'd be up sitting outside thinking about things. What he didn't know, but he knew that she was.

"That girl works way too much," Slim said, shaking his head lightly as he glanced over at her, finding George staring quietly at her.

After a moment, Slim turned away, laying another card down on the table. Candy came walking in about 15 minutes later, his dog following behind him.

"Either you guys got a slug of whiskey?" Candy asked as he walked toward the table, hat in hand. "I got a gut ache."

"I ain't," Slim voiced, eyes locked onto his cards. "I'd drink it myself if I had…and I ain't got no gut ache," he said, laying down another card.

George still sat there reading his magazine, his left leg bent with his other lain across his bunk, and his back against the metal barred head board. Candy merely sat down on his own bed, patting his leg at the dog who whined at him. Then, Carlson finally spoke up again.

"God almighty, that dog of yours stinks, Candy," he said, his nose wrinkling slightly.

At this, Chris shifted a bit, her shoulder rolling as she laid there listening as Carlson talking.

"He's got no teeth. He's all stiff from rheumatism," he continued, placing a card down on the table. "He ain't no good to you," he turned his head to look at Candy, before his eyes went back to his cards. "Hell, he ain't no good to hisself."

Slim looked over his cards, leaning back a bit more in his chair for a moment.

"Why don't you just shoot him, Candy?"

Everyone eyes Carlson when he said this. Even Chris opened her eyes, catching George's attention. She didn't move though as she laid there, just opened her eyes.

"I couldn't do that. I had him too long," Candy said, his eyes staring down at his loveable old friend. "I herded sheep with him," he added, smiling down at the dog at the wonderful memories.

"That poor old dog just suffers hisself all the time," Carlson said, turning to stand up when Candy disagreed. "Look…" he breathed quietly, standing up and walking toward the old man. "Take him out and shoot him right in the back of the head. Right there," he said, placing his finger at the back of the dog's head.

Everyone was silent as they watched, Chris laying there, her eyes staring in concentration at the back of George's magazine as she continued to listen to Carlson's words. George could tell that it was bothering her.

"Hell, he'd never even know what hit him," Carlson assured him.

Candy just shook his head.

"I couldn't do that. I had him too long," Candy said once more, petting him the dog behind the ears and rubbing his fur.

Carlson was starting to get frustrated at this point.

"Tell you what, I'll shoot him for you. Then it won't be you that done it," he offered.

Once again, Candy said no, keeping his eyes on his dog.

"Slim's bitch has got a litter right now. I bet you Slim would give you one of her pups to raise," Carlson said, looking back over at Slim for confirmation.

"Sure," Slim shrugged. "You can have any one of them pups you want," he told him, tapping his cards against the palm of his hand.

Candy shook his head again. He didn't want to have his dog put down, there were too many memories, too many good times. That dog was his best friend, he couldn't just go and kill him, just put an end to it.

"Carlson's right, Candy," Slim spoke up, putting his cards down as he leaned forward in his chair. "That dog ain't no good to hisself."

It was silent again, no one said a word, but their eyes said different. In fact, it wasn't until Carlson walked back over to his bunk and pulled his gun out that Chris sat up, hearing the sound of it clicking while Whit came over and had Slim read aloud from a magazine.

The others tried not to watch as Carlson got his gun, loading a bullet into it, but Chris couldn't take it. She knew what was coming and see didn't want to sit around anymore and listen to it. So without a word, she got up and walked outside, the screen door closing behind her. Carlson saw this, but didn't seem too bothered by it as he came back over to Candy, gun in hand.

"Candy, if you want me to, I'll put that old dog out of his misery right now," he said as gently as possible. "Won't hurt him at all," he assured him.

Again things went silent, Candy looking around the room for a moment.

"Let's wait till tomorrow," there was a pleading tone in Candy's voice.

"I don't see no reason for it. Let's get it over with," Carlson pressured him. "We can't sleep with that stinking dog in here."

Candy tried to say something, looking up at Carlson for a moment, his eyes starting to water slightly. He looked around the room at everyone as if looking for help, but no one said a thing. Not Slim, not Whit, not George, not Jake, no one.

"Alright," Candy finally said, a brokenness in his voice as he looked dog at his old friend, rubbing his face gently. "Take him."

T

I tried to ignore their words as I sat outside, my arms wrapped around myself. I didn't like death, I didn't like talking about it, I didn't like seeing it, I didn't like hearing it. It bothered me to say the least. Then when I heard the shot ring out, I felt tears sting my eyes, my foot lashing out and kicking one of the chairs. It fell over, clattering on the boards of the porch, while I sat there with my head in my hands.

A few minutes later, I heard hurried footsteps. When I looked up, I found Lennie coming toward me, a scared look on his face.

"Lennie?" I called, my brows furrowing together.

"I-I heard a loud bang," he stammered, looking around at the darkness around him.

It was obvious that he was startled, so I motioned for him to sit down. Surprisingly enough, he listened, taking a seat next to me on the steps of the porch.

"Don't worry, your fine," I assured him, carefully patting him on the back.

He jumped for a moment at the contact, but relaxed a moment later and started playing with the front of his overalls.

I just sighed and tried wiping at my eyes, running a hand through my hair at the same time. Lennie took notice of this and looked up, catching the tears on my face.

"Why you cryin?" he asked, a curious look on his face.

"It's because I'm sad," I told him, wiping my nose on my sleeve.

"Why you sad?" he asked, tilting his head to the side slightly.

I couldn't help, but to choke on a few tears as I sat there, pinching the bridge of my nose. Lord this bothered me, especially, since I knew how bad it hurt Candy. Candy was a good man and he didn't deserve this.

"You want I go get George?" he asked, making to get up.

I just grabbed hold of his hand, stopping him before he could go get George. There was no need to bother him, I was a big girl.

"No, just sit here with me for a while, alright?" I asked, still gripping his hand.

As he sat back down, I realized how much bigger his hand was than mine. His looked gigantic compared to my small little hand. Then again, he was much bigger than me in every aspect of things.

"You're tiny," he snickered.

I looked up at him as I sat there, feeling the corners of my lips twitching upwards.

"I guess I am, aren't I," I laughed faintly, before looking out at the land.

It was so dark, the dark of night blanketing the land. The only natural light came from the moon, giving the ground a faint glow, the light glistening off of our eyes. As I looked over at Lennie, I saw where the moon shone on his face, lighting his eyes with an almost ethereal feeling.

I jumped when I felt him reach out and touch my hair though, pulling back slightly. He kept his hand there though, touching it gently, feeling it. It was slightly awkward for me, but I knew that he meant no harm in it, he was merely curious I guess. When I didn't say anything, he kept touching it, stroking it lightly.

"It's soft," he smiled.

I could only imagine if he ever did that to Curly's wife, she's probably end up complaining that he was messing it up. Personally though, I didn't care if he messed my hair up or not. If he did, he did. If he didn't, he didn't, it was as simple as that.

"Lennie, what is it with you and touching things?" I asked, looking up at him.

"I like touching nice things. I like stroking them with the fingers," he said.

He was so child like, so innocent.

"So I guess my hair is nice then?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded at this, raising his hand again to place it on my head. After a few more minutes of this though, George's voice met our ears, the sound of the door opening following after.

"Lennie," he said sharply, a warning tone in his voice.

"It's alright George, he hasn't done nothin wrong," I said softly, looking back out at the land once more.

I could see the slight look of shock on his face out of the side of my eye as he stood there, blinking a few times. I guess he didn't expect that.

"It's time for bed Lennie," he said softly, motioning with his head toward the inside.

Lennie whined in response as he sat there, his hand curling around my shirt sleeve.

"Just a bit longer George?" he pleaded, finding joy in my company since I had let him feel my hair to his hearts content.

George stood there, blinking a few more times before finally responding, a look of defeat on his face.

"Fine, but just 10 more minutes," he said, sitting down in one of the chairs to watch us.

He didn't say anything after that, merely letting Lennie touch and play with my hair some more. To be honest, I wasn't quite sure why he liked it so much, but he did. To him, it was like it was the best thing ever.

"George, you feel," Lennie said, smiling over at him.

"Not now Lennie," George said, turning his eyes toward the land.

"George, you feel," Lennie said once more. "You feel, you feel," he persisted.

George sighed, looking over at me for a moment for permission. I nodded of course, giving him the go ahead.

"You feel, you feel," Lennie pushed, grinning when George knelt down beside me.

I drew in a breath as he placed his hand on my head, gently stroking my hair. To be honest, it gave me a calming feeling, relaxing me. George was even more gentle than Lennie's, his touch almost putting me to sleep.

"See George, it's nice," Lennie grinned.

"Yes, it is nice," George nodded, carefully drawing back his hand.

A strange feeling of disappointment struck me when he pulled away, standing up a moment later.

"It's time for bed now Lennie," George told him.

"Alright George, time for bed," Lennie nodded, standing up and walking inside.

I sat there as George followed him inside, just looking up at the stars. It was a beautiful sight, especially with the moon out, but it also felt lonely somehow. Then again, you'd think I'd be used to that feeling by now. No, I still longed for companionship of some sort.

"I'm sorry about all that," I heard George say softly as he came back out, sitting down beside me where Lennie had.

I just shook my head, putting on a small smile.

"It's alright George, honest," I said, pushing a bit of hair out of my face.

"But I-"

I didn't let him finish as I placed a finger to his lips, shutting him up real quick.

"Really, it's fine," I assured him, pulling my hand back a moment later.

He still seemed a bit shocked though as he sat there, his eyes staring into mine.

"You shouldn't worry so much George, otherwise, you'll be gray before you know it," I giggled softly, referring to his hair.

I swear, his face went slightly red as I said this, making him all the more handsome in my opinion.

"That reminds me, I'll be doin haircuts tomorrow. I'd be willin to do yours if you like?" I offered, sending a smile his way.

"I don't see why not," he shrugged, running a hand through his hair as if to inspect it.

His hair was a little on the long side, but I'd seen longer. It looked good on him though, helping to define his face a bit more. It also gave him a kinder look I suppose or at least that was my opinion anyway. I mean, even Slim wore his hair a bit longer and he looked just fine with it. In fact, I'd tease him every time, saying that I'd still left it long enough for the girls to run their hands through it. That was another reason why I was cutting hair tomorrow, all the guys would be going into town the day after tomorrow so they had to look good for the ladies.

"I have a question though," George spoke up after a moment.

"Alright, shoot."

"Why…why exactly were you…" he stopped for a moment, thinking how to word things properly.

"Why was I sitting out here with Lennie and letting him mess with my hair?" I supplied, earning a nod in return.

"Yeah…"

I sat there for a moment, rubbing my arms a bit, before finally speaking.

"Honestly?"

George nodded his head once more, keeping his on me.

"He…he reminds me of my brother," I breathed, closing my eyes for a moment.

It had always been hard to talk about him. He'd been such a good kid.

"Your brother?" George asked, giving me a curious look.

"Yeah…" I whispered. "He was a good kid."

"You guys comin in?" Slim asked, coming to stand by the door as he covered a yawn.

"Yeah," George nodded, standing up and stretching.

He then held a hand out to me, easily pulling me up when I took it.

"Thanks George," I smiled.

"After you," he said, gesturing with his arm for me to go first.

He really was something else, that was for sure.

**Okay, that was chapter 5. I really hope that everyone liked it? Remember, don't forget to REVIEW and MESSAGE me on your thoughts, ideas, opinions and feelings on this chapter/story. I love hearing feedback. Also, you DON'T have to have an account to post a REVIEW. Remember that. Anyway, thanks for reading everyone! REVIEW! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A Rancher's Touch**

**Chapter 6**

I awoke early the next morning, only to find the others still asleep. From what I could tell, I was the only one up out of everyone in our bunk house.

I looked over at George as he laid there, his eyes closed, chest rising and falling. He looked so peaceful as he laid there asleep, not a single line of worry on his face. Then I looked at Lennie, finding him laid up on his side facing George, his hand curled loosely around the blanket on his bed.

After another minute or two, I threw my legs over the edge, easily pulling my boots on. I tapped them a couple times on the floor once I got them on, making sure that they were secured. I then walked out of the bunk house, closing the door quietly behind me.

It was chillier out this morning than it was the previous morning, leaving me shivering. Even though I had my jacket and both shirts on right now, I was still cold.

T

When George finally woke up, he rubbed his eyes, turning onto his side for a moment. He was surprised to find and empty bed beside him, causing him to sit up. It was still early and no one else in the bunk house was up yet, so he didn't know why she'd be missing.

Within moments, his curiosity had gotten a hold of him, pulling him up and out of bed. He easily slid his shoes and jacket on, before walking out of the bunk house and outside. He looked around, but he didn't see anything at first. When he took a second look though, he caught sight of her by the wash house, finding here combing out her hair with her hands. He also saw her with a pair of sissors, her hand gliding over her hair and trimming it a bit.

T

When I looked up from cutting my hair, I caught sight of George, motioning him over. I was actually surprised to see him up and about with how late we were up, but that didn't seem to stop him much.

"Mornin George," I greet, stringing a hand through my hair and shaking out bits and pieces.

"Mornin," he nodded, tipping his hat respectfully.

"Why don't you sit down and I'll cut your hair for ya," I said, gesturing toward the stool beside me.

"Alright," he yawned, sitting down on the stool before removing his hat.

I gave him a friendly smile as I looked him over, raking my hand through his hair for a moment. His hair was soft and thick, the strands brushing smoothly against my skin.

He didn't say much as I did all this, just watching as I brought the scissors close and started snipping. I wouldn't take too much off though, just enough to clean him up a bit.

"So, when's the last time you had someone cut your hair anyway?" I asked curiously, running my hand through his hair again.

"It's been a while," he said.

I could tell by tone in his voice that it had been a long while since he'd had someone cut it.

"Well, when I get done with you, you'll look good as new," I promised, a smile pulling at my lips.

T

George just sat there and watched her as she cut his hair. He couldn't remember the last time a woman had touched him in such a way, the feeling of her fingers running through his hair reminding him of when he was a kid. He remembered how his mother would run her fingers gently through his hair, the feeling leaving him with a sense of calmness. It relaxed him, putting his mind at ease. That's what Chris was doing to him. She was putting him at ease every time her fingers ran through his short brown hair. In fact, if it weren't for the fact that he was sitting up in the stool, the feeling would likely put him to sleep.

"There," she finally said, smiling down at him.

He opened his eyes to look back up at her, only find her hand in his hair again, ruffling it a bit. He watched almost cross eyed as loose bits of hair fell, ticking his nose and face. Then, a moment later, her fingers were brushing against his skin.

They were soft, smooth even. This in itself surprised him with the work that they did. Again, they brushed over his skin, brushing away the loose bits. She then ran her hand through his hair one last time, before finally pulling away, a feeling of disappointment tugging at his heart.

"There, good as new," she smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Thanks," he nodded, letting a small smile tug at the corners of his lips.

T

It was quiet as everyone piled into the back of the wagon. Other than George and Chris, no one had said a word all morning. Then again, it was to be expected after what had happened last night. Chris was still sore about it to a degree, but Candy was a wreck. When he had woken up, he didn't even know what to do with himself. He was so used to waking up to his dog and now it was gone. His best friend was gone. Chris thought about all of this as she sat beside George at the end of the wagon. They were the last two, so they were stuck sitting at the end, their legs hanging freely off the edge.

Lennie was behind her and as she closed her eyes, she felt him grip the back of her jacket, keeping an even grip on it. All was quiet.

T

"Hey, Chris, you alright?" Whit asked.

I turned to him, blinking clear my vision.

"Yeah, just a bit hot is all," I told him, wiping my brow.

I was dripping with sweat as I tossed piles of barley into the wagon, both shirts pulled from my body and sitting on the front seat with my jacket. That left me in my white undershirt which was soaked in the front.

"I'm gonna need a shower after this," I sighed.

"Can I watch?"

I gave him a dry look at this, before turning to him with a smile on my face.

"Sure, if you don't mind having a foot up yer ass," I said sweetly, watching as he grinned in response.

T

"Alright, I'm gonna take a shower first before I start cutting hair," I announced, a towel over my shoulder. "And that means stay out," I said flatly, easily making my way over to the wash house.

T

Chris looked around her, before walking into the shower, closing the stall door behind her. She made sure that the hook locked in place before she did anything else. From there, she undressed, tossing her clothes over the door the hang with her towel. She then turned on the water, shivering as it hit her skin.

T

"You think someone should keep an eye on her?" Whit asked, eyeing the wash house for a moment.

"Nah, it'd just give her one more reason to throw something at you," Slim grinned, thinking back to the other night.

"It'd be worth the risk sneakin a peek though," he said, an impish grin on his face.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," George stated, pulling his magazine out to read.

"So, you're tellin me that if you had the chance to see her stark naked, you wouldn't take it?" Whit asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nope," George replied, his response short and simple.

"You're kidding me?" Whit was completely flabbergasted at George's answer.

After all, what guy wouldn't want to see a woman stark naked in the shower? Especially when one was merely yards away in the wash house.

"Besides, I'd rather not have my head kicked in," George commented, flipping to the next page in his magazine.

"Good choice George," Slim chuckled as he sat there smoking a cigarette.

**Alright, that was chapter 6. I hope that everyone liked it? It was slightly more intimate I suppose. Anyway, don't forget to REVIEW and MESSAGE me with your thoughts, ideas, opinions and feelings on this chapter/story. I LOVE hearing feedback, it helps me write. Anyway, thanks again everyone! :) I'm starting chapter 7 as we speak. XD**


	7. Chapter 7

**A Rancher's Touch**

**Chapter 7**

After roughing my hair up with a towel for a bit, I stood back up from my bed and grabbed the scissors, combing my hand through my hair.

"Alright, who's first?" I asked, looking between the guys.

Slim raised his hand first, stamping out his cigarette in the tray.

"Alright then, off with your hat," I said, folding the towel long ways as I walked over to him, sitting the scissors down on the table.

Once he took his hat off, I ran a hand through his hair, combing it out a bit. His hair was thinner than George's, so there was less to cut and mess with.

"Don't worry Slim, I won't take too much off, that way the lady's will still have something to run their fingers through," I teased, a smile tugging at my lips.

"You're too kind," he chuckled, shaking his head at me.

I just smiled at him though as I placed the towel around his shoulders, running my hand through the back of his hair for a moment. It was obvious that he was getting comfortable with the feeling as he closed his eyes, his muscles relaxing.

"Why are you always so sweet on him?" Whitt asked as I started cutting in the back.

I stopped for a moment as he asked this, before loosely wrapping my arms around Slim's shoulders from behind.

"Well, he _is_ the man of my life after all," I said, leaning down and kissing Slim on the cheek.

The boys started laughing at this. They knew it wasn't true and so did I, but I still liked to joke around from time to time. After all, Slim was like family in my mind, like an older brother.

"I better be," he joked, a hearty smile on his face.

I just shoved him lightly in response, before going back to cutting his hair.

"But really though, why are you so sweet on him?" Whitt asked once more, watching me as I continued with Slim's hair.

"Why you wanna know anyway?" I asked, stringing my fingers through the back of Slim's hair, cutting the ends.

"Just cuz," Whitt replied.

"Well," I started, wiping the corner of my eye for a moment. "First off, he's never once pulled anything on me," I said pointedly.

Carlson laughed when he heard this, knowing that I was referring to the crap that Whit always pulled.

"Not to mention, he's a gentleman," I said, combing his hair down a bit on the side as I took a few more clips at it.

Again, there were a few chuckles around the room. I just ignored it as I moved in front of him, brushing his bangs out of the way for a moment.

"Alright, you still wanna keep it a bit longer on his side?" I asked, gesturing to his left side.

"Yeah, why not."

I smiled at him for his, before running my hand through the front and cutting, evening things out on his right side before going for the left side.

I just let my fingers comb through it, running them down to the tips as I took a few snips at it, keeping it at an angle. I continued this until up was by his ear, evening the line out.

"Alright, all done," I said, ruffling his hair a bit to shake any loose ends out.

After that, I shook the towel out, smug look on my face as I turned to Whitt.

"Alright, your turn Whitt," I said.

"Aw, do I have to?" he whined.

"Yes," I said simply.

"Have at it Chris, Lord knows that mop of his needs it," Slim chuckled.

"Come on, Slim," he groaned.

I just laughed at this, before walking over and tossing the towel around his shoulders.

All eyes were on him now in pure amusement.

"Be nice?" he pleaded.

I merely leaned forward at this, leaving us practically nose to nose.

"Chris?" his voice was wary.

I burst out laughing a minute later, pulling back with a grin on my face.

"It's called payback Whitt," I said, laughing lightly at the fact that I had freaked him out.

"You're the devil," he grumbled.

"Whitt, I'm a saint compared to you," I giggled, ruffling his hair before snipping away at it.

He just sat there grumbling the whole time as I cut his hair, chuckles echoing around the room every now and then.

"I don't know why you're grumbling so much Whitt, especially with how gentle she is," Slim chuckled.

"Yeah, well I can't see what she's doin," he complained, arms crossed over his chest.

It was obvious that it was only half hearted though. They all knew that I wasn't malicious or anything. I've only ever gone as far as to steal Whitt or Jake's hats in spite or their deck of cards, but that was about it.

"Stay still," I said, pulling his head back to where it should be.

"He can't sit still for the life of him," Carlson chuckled.

"Can too," Whitt announced, moving his head to look over at Carlson.

"I said stay still," I groaned, pulling his head back to face me again.

This time, I heard George chuckle, a small smile forming on my face. It was nice to hear him laugh, especially since he seemed like such a quiet guy.

"Okay, I'm done," I announced, brushing his bangs back. "Why don't you go over to the wash house and take a look?" I suggested, removing the towel from his shoulders.

He got up after that and walked out of the bunk house, heading for the wash house. I just smiled to myself, shaking my head.

"Alright, anyone else?" I asked, looking around.

Those that were left just shook their heads.

"Okay, then that means I'm gonna take a nap then," I announced, before walking over to my bed and flopping down on it.

It creaked a bit as I bounced slightly, before finally settling down. George and Slim merely chuckled when they saw this, causing a grin to form on my face.

"Now, don't bug me," I said, curling up on my bed with a yawn.

T

As time passed, so did the light, finally leaving the ranch blanketed in the darkness of night. At this point, Candy was laid on his bed, arm over his eyes. Chris was still asleep on her bed, faced toward George and Lennie's bunks away from the light. Every now and then, George's eyes would flit toward her away from the game of cards he was playing with Whit. Even though the only thing that he could see was her backside, he still found himself staring at her. Whitt caught him staring though, a smirk on his face.

"You like her, don't you?" he grinned.

"Huh?"

"I said, you like her," he repeated.

"What are goin on about?" George asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

"It's obvious you fansy her with the way you keep lookin at her," Whitt chuckled.

"I barely even know her," George argued softly, laying a card down on the table.

"What do you think Carlson?" Whitt asked, turning his head to look at him.

"How the hell should I know," he shrugged, going back to reading his magazine by the light.

"Well, I still think you like her," Whitt grinned.

"Just leave me alone," George sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I knew it!" Whitt cried.

"Would you stop insinuating things and shut up," George groaned, before pointing toward Chris. "She's sleepin, remember?"

"So?"

George gave him a flat look, picking up another card.

"Well, she don't look too good," he pointed out.

"What do ya mean?" Whitt asked, unsure of what George was talking about.

"Forget it," he sighed, looking down at his cards.

It was about that time that Lennie came in, looking as though he were trying to hide something, looking over his shoulder carefully. It was obvious that he was up to something.

"Lennie," George started, his head pressed against his finger for a moment as he leaned forward a bit, elbow on the table. "I told you not to bring that pup in here," he said.

"I ain't got no pup," Lennie said quietly, looking down at his stomach, seemingly cradling something before popping himself in the stomach.

He rolled over onto his side laughing after that, his laughter soon joined by Whitt, then George after realizing he'd been tricked. That was one thing Lennie had never tried doing and he found himself shaking his.

A moment later, the door opened and Curley marching inside, and irritated look on his face. Both George and Whitt stopped for a moment to look at him, staring quietly.

"Any of you boys seen my wife?" he asked, an undertone of accusation in his voice.

"She ain't been here," Whitt said, breathing out a cloud of smoke, before resting his cigarette in the tray.

George merely sat there quietly, turning his eyes back to Whitt to avoid having to look into Curley's eyes. His stare always made him feel uncomfortable, almost as if he were looking down on him. Then again, he was.

"Where the hell's Slim?" he finally asked, absently tightening the glove on his hand.

"Went out to the barn," Whitt told him simply, holding his gaze.

Curley then walked out quickly, the door slamming behind him, Carlson staring after him.

"Carlson. Do you think he'll find Slim in the barn with his wife?" Whitt asked, wiping the corner of his mouth in anticipation.

"Better not tangle with Slim," Carlson said, a grin growing on his face was he walked outside.

"Curley's lookin for a fight. I gotta see this. Come on, George," Whitt said, quickly getting up and running for the door.

"Nah. I'll stay here. Thanks," George said quietly, staying where he was.

Lennie then got up after Whitt left, coming over and sitting next to George at the table, picking up a couple cards and looking at them.

"Curly's wife in the barn?" George asked, a firm look on his face.

"If she was, I didn't see her," Lennie said absently, his mind on the two cards in his hands.

George got up after that, slowly walking toward the door and leaning against the frame as he looked out through the screen.

"George, both ends is the same," Lennie announced in realization. "Why are both the ends is the same?" he asked, looking over at his friend for an answer.

"I don't know," George said offhandedly, scratching his neck. "It's just the way they make them," he told him. "You sure she didn't come in the barn like she come in here?" he asked.

"No. She never."

"Give me a good whorehouse every time. A guy can go in, get drunk…get it all out of his system at once and no messes," he said, making a gesture with his hands, looking back outside a moment later.

T

I sat there awake, listening as they talked. I'd woken up around the time that Lennie had come in, but I kept quiet, laying there still. I'd heard Curley come in, asking about his wife, Whit telling him that he hadn't seen her. I'd nearly flinched when the door slammed though, but managed to remain silent. I shivered though when I heard George mention the whorehouse. Then again, I found myself silently agreeing with him because if my ex would have done that, then I wouldn't be in this stupid mess. Then again, after I thought about it, I knew that I was better off. I'd rather not go around living a lie. For some reason, I felt my eyes water when I thought about it, being reminded of my past. My ears perked though when Lennie started asking question about a little place where they could live. It was 10 acres.

"It's got a windmill…and a little shack on it and a chicken run."

I could see George from my spot on the bed, a small smile on his face as he started talking about it.

"Got rabbits, George?" Lennie asked curiously.

"Well, I could easily build a few hutches…and you could feed them alfalfa," he said, gesturing toward Lennie.

He looked so cheerful now, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards into a large smile. This was the first time I'd seen him look this happy.

"You damn right! You goddamn right I could!" Lennie announced gleefully. "George, but, George, tell what that house."

"Well," George grinned. "We'd have a little house and a room to ourself," he started, walking away from the door and back toward the table.

I could hear his footsteps echo against the wood.

"And a little fat iron stove…and in the winter, we'd keep the fire going," he said, sitting back down.

"And rabbits. I'm gonna tend them," Lennie said with grand enthusiasm. "How do I tend them rabbits?"

"Well, you go out to the alfalfa field with a sack. You fill up that sack and you bring it in and you put it in the rabbit cages," George explained.

Lennie giggled happily at this, listening as George explained everything to him. How I wished I could turn around and watch them, see the smiles on their faces as they talked, everything sounding like a dream.

"We'd have a few pigeons that go flyin around the windmill…like they done when I was a kid," George said, his voice happy in rememberance. "It'd be our own," he said pointedly. "Nobody could can us," he told him.

I continued to listen, my eyes open and staring out at the empty space of George and Lennie's bunks, a small smile on my face.

"We don't like a guy, we just say, "Get the hell out."," he told him. "If a friend come along, we'd have an extra bunk…we'd just say, "Spend the night," and, by God, he would," he chuckled happily.

This really made me smile, hearing George's words. They were so real, full of feeling.

"We'd have a dog and a couple cats, but you got to make sure them cats don't get them rabbits," George told him.

"You just…you just let them try," Lennie started. "I'm gonna to break them goddamn cats' necks. I smash them cats with a stick," Lennie announced, earning a chuckle from George.

"You know a place like this?" Candy spoke up, quickly quieting the two's laughter.

"Suppose I do, what's it to you?" George asked.

I couldn't see them, but I knew that they were looking over at Candy. An apprehensive look likely on George's face.

"How much they want for a place like that?" Candy asked curiously.

"Could get it for 600 bucks," George answered after a moment. "Old people that owns it is broke," he explained.

"I ain't much good with only one hand," Candy started quietly. "That's why they give me a job sweepin," he said. "They give me $250 because I lost my hand. I got fifty more saved in the bank right now. That's 300," he concluded. "And I got fifty more comin at the end of the month."

I could hear his bed creak a few times as he moved a bit closer on his bed, before continuing.

"Suppose I went in with you fellas," he began. "That'd be $350 I'd put in," he told them. "Let me tell you something. I could cook, tend the chickens, and hoe in the garden. Now, how would that be?" his voice was hopeful as he turned toward them.

I heard Lennie say okay after a moment, before George spoke up, cutting Lennie off before he could say anything else.

"I got to think about that. We was always gonna do it by ourselves," George said quietly.

"We was gonna do it by ourselves," Lennie repeated.

"Wait a minute. I tell you what," Candy said quickly, getting up from his bed.

His footsteps got closer, before I heard him pull a chair out to sit down.

"I'd make a will…and leave my share to you guys in case I kick off," he said, sitting down, his chair squeaking slightly in response. "I ain't got no relatives or nothin. You fellas got any money? We could do it right now," he proposed.

"We got ten bucks between us," George said quietly, a certain tone of sadness catching in his voice.

This in itself made my breath hitch. How could they only have ten bucks between them? Two hard working guys like them. That was barely enough to hold them over with food.

"Ten bucks," Candy mused.

"Yeah…" George said, slightly defeated.

"Well…" Candy voiced, pausing for a moment before change the subject slightly, his voice miserable and lonely. "You seen what they done to my dog. They said he wasn't no good no more," he sighed. "I wish somebody would shoot me when I ain't no good," he said seriously, making me flinch.

I didn't likely hearing him talk like that, I really didn't.

"But they won't do that," he told them. "They can me…and I ain't gonna have no place to go."

I could tell by the silence that this had gotten their attention. From the short time that I'd known George, I knew that he wouldn't be cruel enough to leave a nice fellow like Candy out on a limb. The man was lonely, unable to do much, it wouldn't be right. Even I knew that. He then got up, slowly moving toward the door, before turning around for me to see. I made sure to keep my eyes hidden though, not wanting them to know that I was awake and listening to their conversation, something so sensitive.

"Look, if me and Lennie work a month and we don't spend nothin, we'll have 100 bucks," George stated. "And you got 350?" he asked.

"Yeah and you can have every cent of it," Candy said quickly.

"That'd be 450," George said, moving back toward the table. "Jesus Christ, I bet we could get it for that," he said. "And then you and Lennie could go get her started. Then I'd get a job and make up the rest," he announced, hope weaving back into his voice.

"I'm gonna take that goddamn pup," Lennie exclaimed.

"Sure, sure," George said quickly, sitting down on a chair. "You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna write those two old people that we'll take it…and Candy will send $100 to hold hold it?"

"I sure will and I'll have $30 more by the time you guys are ready to quit," he told them.

"And I'll get to tend the rabbits."

"I'll get to hoe in the garden, even if I ain't no good at it."

"Yeah, sure," George laughed happily, a soft smile forming on my face.

At this point, my mind tuned out their voices as they all started talking at once, voices happy and merry.

"Man, shut up! I'm getting tired of it!" I heard Slim yell, my brows furrowing together.

A moment later, Slim and Curley burst into the room, sending me bolting up in my bed.

"You been askin me too often. I'm damn sick of it!" Slim yelled.

In all my time, I don't think I'd ever really heard him yell like that, voice angry. Yeah, he'd gone after one guy for trying to cop a feel with me, but still.

"If you can't look after your goddamn wife, what do you expect me to do about it, huh?" he asked irritably, wiping his hands on a rag. "You lay off me," he told him, the warning in his voice clear as day as they locked eyes with each other, Curley not bothering to back up any.

"I didn't mean nothin by it," Curley said, but I knew that it was a load of bull crap.

"Boy, I said lay off," Slim warned, trying to walk away.

"Just thought you might have seen her, that's all," Curley said, his voice raising a bit.

"Why the hell don't you just tell her to stay home where she belongs," Carlson told him.

"You keep outta this!" Curley shouted, getting up in his face.

"You goddamn punk, you're yellow as a frog belly," Carlson shook his head. "I don't care if you're the best welterweight in the country. You come for me, I'll kick your goddamn head in," he told him, walking away.

Curley just watched as he walked away, the sound of Jake making chicken noises catching everyone's attention, causing Whitt to laugh. Whitt shut up quickly though, but Jake didn't stop, leaving Lennie laughing.

"What the hell you laughin about?" Curley asked, turning on Lennie.

Lennie had no clue what he'd done.

"Huh! You!" he yelled, quickly getting Lennie's attention.

Everyone stood there watching, carefully waiting.

"Come on, you big bastard, get up," he said, walking over toward Slim, staring him in the eyes for a moment before turning back toward Lennie who still sat in his chair.

"No big son of a bitch is gonna laugh at me," he seethed. "Get up!"

Then, before Lennie could even respond, Curley lashed out. His fist went flying, punching Lennie in the face, and sending him flying out of his seat on onto the floor by my bed.

"I'll show you who's yellow," he said, pointing at Carlson. "Get up!" he yelled.

Candy was yelling at him now, saying that he had no cause for hurting Lennie. He didn't listen though as Lennie slowly tried getting up, knocking him back down with his fist.

"Get up and fight!" Curly yelled, punching him again.

"He didn't do nothin!"

"Leave him alone!" Whitt called out.

"Damn it, Curley, stop it!" I screamed, hopping off my bed to help Lennie.

In returned, I got punched in the face instead, sending me flying to the ground against my bed. I felt the back of my head slam against the metal leg, sending me curling into a ball as I held it painfully. In all my life, I'd never gotten like that, something filled with so much rage. Sure, he'd hit me once before when he'd thought I was a man, but still.

"Son of a…" I winced, gripping my head.

No of that stopped him though as he kept hitting Lennie, punching him in the face.

They kept calling for Lennie to fight back, but he wouldn't. Lennie just covered his face as he cried, scared out of his mind.

"Get him, Lennie!"

"Come on, fight back!"

"Get him, Lennie! Get him!" George yelled, his voice cutting through the air.

That was all that it took for Lennie to raise his head, catching Curley's fist in his hand. Curley tried to overpower him, but it did him little good as Lennie started pushing him backwards, Curley trying desperately to free his hand. Lennie pushed him back onto the table, Curley kicking his legs all over the place. He became frantic as he started yelling and screaming.

"Get him off of me! Get him off of me!" he screamed.

Lennie just kept his hold on him, his fist tightening around Curley's.

"Slim, help me," George called, wrapping his arms around Lennie, trying to pull him off.

"Lennie, let go!" he yelled, tugging as hard as he could.

Slim grabbed hold of his arm, using all his strength to try and pulling him off. I could hear bones cracking as I laid there on the floor, staring up and watching the whole thing. Blood started running down Curley's arms, mixing with his screams. I could hear my heart pounding in my ear as I sat there, eyes wide and fearful. He was breaking his hand.

"My God," I whispered.

"Lennie, let go of his hand! Let go!" George yelled, Curley's eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head from the pain.

Then, finally, they pulled him off.

"Jesus," Carlson breathed.

"You told me to, George! You told me to!" Lennie cried, walking over to his bed with George.

"I know, I know. Take it easy now," George said softly, trying to calm him down.

Our eyes met for a moment as he looked around, not sure what to do. I'm not sure that anyone did.

"We got to get him to a doctor," Slim said, placing a hand on Curley's arm and rolling him over onto his back. "Carlson, get the wagon hitched up. We'll take him into Soledad," he said quickly.

"I didn't wanna hurt him! I didn't wanna hurt him!" Lennie cried in hysterics.

"It ain't your fault, Lennie. This punk had it comin to him," Slim told him, trying to reassure him as he went to wrap Curley's hand in a cotton shirt.

It was then that I tried to stand up, placing a wary hand on the end of my bed for support. My head was spinning and my head was pounding, it was terrible.

"Slim?" I breathed, swaying a bit as I stood there.

"Chris?" Slim's voice was full of concern.

I barely even registered the sound of his voice though as I stood there because the next thing I knew, I was falling, falling into a black void.

T

"Chris!" Slim cried as she fell, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

Within seconds, George had wrapped his arms around her, catching her before she could hit the floor.

"Chris. Chris?" George called her name, shaking her lightly.

She didn't respond though, her head merely falling to the side.

"Is she alright?" Slim asked, concern filling his voice.

"I don't know. I think she just passed out," George told him, holding her in his arms.

Lord she was light, even though she was currently dead weight in his arms. He never would have imagined though that that would be the way he'd end up with a woman in his arms, but apparently that's how it was. It was when she was passed out, vulnerable even. That was when he realized something.

"Slim, is Curley's old man gonna can us now?" George asked, trying to hide the feeling of fear in his voice.

They hadn't even been there for a week. They couldn't afford to get canned with only ten bucks between them, not now.

"Hey, you hear me?" Slim called, trying to get Curley's attention. "Hey, you hear me?" he tried against, slapping the side of his face lightly.

Curley groaned in response, lazily turning his head back toward Slim.

"Now, I think you got your hand caught in a machine," Slim said seriously, daring Curley to try anything. "Now, if you don't tell nobody what happened, we ain't goin to," he told him. "But you just tell and try to get this guy canned…we're gonna tell everybody what really happened," he warned.

Slim knew for a fact what would happen if anyone were to find out what really happened and he'd be damned if he let the kid get away with it. He was still quietly pissed that Curley had hit Chris and the only reason he was willing to help Curley, was the fact that he didn't want no trouble for anyone.

"You got that?" Slim asked, watching as Curley gave a weak nod. "Good."

Curley held his hand as he laid there, attempting to look over at George.

"George, you take care of Chris," Slim told him, before turning to the others. "Jake, you and Whitt give me a hand," he said, carefully sliding his hand underneath Curley's shoulder, trying to get a grip on him.

George just stood there for a moment as he watched Jake grab Curley's other arm, helping lift him up as Whitt grabbed his legs, moving toward the door.

"Candy, get the door," Slim said quickly. "Watch it," he said, getting on the others to be careful. "Whitt, you go on into town with Carlson."

Lennie just sat there crying as everyone moved around, his head down in his hands. He felt terrible, scared and pained. That just left George with Chris in his arms, a faint groan escaping her lips after a moment. She still didn't say anything though as George fixed his grip on her, picking her up in his arms. Her head fell against his chest as he did this, his eyes going toward Lennie. George just didn't know what to do, he was still worried about Curley running his mouth and getting the two of them canned. He knew that Lennie didn't mean to hurt him, he was just doing what he had been told to do. So, in all reality, it was George's fault, not Lennie's. Although, it was Curley's fault too. If he hadn't gone after Lennie, then none of this would have ever happened.

"Lennie?" George called softly, turning to get the man's attention.

He just kept crying though, his head between his legs. It was as if he were traumatized.

George looked down at Chris one more time, before walking over and placing her down on her bed, being careful with her head. He hoped that she'd be alright, but he'd just have to wait and see.

"It'll be alright Lennie, it wasn't your fault," George whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder.

T

I had no clue how long I'd been out, all I knew, was that my head was killing me. It was pounding painfully, I felt sick to my stomach and when I looked around, I found myself alone in the bunk house.

"Slim?" I groaned, my eyes looking around the room, almost in a haze.

I looked over to where George and Lennie should have been, but they weren't there either. It was then that I remembered what had happened. Curley had come in, started picking a fight, then he'd gone after Lennie. I could remember all of it, even hitting my head against the metal frame of the bed. Although, I had no clue how I'd gotten on the bed, so I guessed that one of the guys had undoubtedly placed me there.

"Where is everyone?" I groaned out, slowly getting up from my bed.

I was left feeling dizzy as I stood there, steadying myself against the wall. It was still pitch black out, so it was obvious it was still late.

"George? Carlson?" I whispered, slowly pushing open the door and stepping outside.

The cool air hit my skin making me shiver, but felt good against my hot skin. It was then that I noticed a light on down in the wash house, pulling me toward it little by little. Someone was still here and I wanted to found out who.

"George?"

"Jesus, you look like hell."

It was George and Lennie. Lennie was seated on a bench, while George was on a stool, gently wiping at Lennie's bloody face. The poor guy looked terrible. As I got closer, I could see that his lip was busted, and his nose was bleeding. Blood stained his forehead and cheeks. I felt so sorry for him, but I kept my distance, watching quietly.

"Do I still get to tend the rabbits?" Lennie asked quietly, turning his head to look at George.

"Sure. You ain't done nothin wrong," George said softly, his voice as gentle as his touch as he dabbed the wet cloth lightly at Lennie's face.

"I didn't want…I didn't want no trouble," Lennie whispered, a tear falling from his eye.

More soon followed and before I knew it, tears were pouring from his eyes.

"It's all right," George cooed softly. "I know you didn't."

He was so gentle with Lennie that I felt something tug at my heart. I'd never seen someone like that be so gentle. It was like they were family and Lennie was a crying child, while George was a loving father trying to sooth a sobbing child. He was so gentle, so kind, he was different than any man I'd ever met. Sure, Slim was kind and could be like George, I was sure of that. There was just something about this guy though that caught me and pulled at my heart. It touched me in a way I wasn't sure I'd felt before.

"Come on. Be quiet so I can clean you up, okay?" George asked, putting on a small smile for his friend.

They were both something else, that for sure, something pure.

"It's okay," George whispered, gently wiping away the blood from his cheek.

I guess Lennie finally caught sight of me after a while though before George turning around, his eyes connecting with mine.

"Chris," he breathed, slowly standing up and walking toward me.

"Hey George," I smiled nervously.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah…my head just hurts," I whispered, touching the back of my head.

I winced when I did this though, regretting ever touching it. When I pulled it back though, my fingertips were coated in blood, red and sticky.

"Here, sit down," he said, ushering me over to the stool.

I sat down, my eyes trailing over to Lennie, before they went back to George.

"He'll be alright," George nodded as though sensing my unspoken question. "That reminds me…" he started, fully turning toward me now, an honest and sincere look upon his face. "Thank you…for standing up for him," he said.

I just smiled softly, looking between the two of them.

"You're welcome. Besides, I couldn't just sit by and let Curley beat the crap out of him…" I said quietly, rubbing my arm.

I just felt bad because I hadn't been able to do much. Lennie had still gotten hurt, even with my attempt to help him.

"It's more than anyone else has ever done," he told me, rinsing the small washcloth off and getting some fresh water.

"Well, he's a nice guy," I said, putting on a small smile as I looked over at Lennie.

His eyes lit up a bit at my words, hesitantly reaching out and grabbing the cuff of my shirt. He merely wanted some sort of comfort and I suppose holding onto my shirt did that. I didn't mind.

"It's alright Lennie," I smiled soft, gently patting his hand.

After a moment, George came back over, carefully touching the back of my head.

I bite my lip when he did this, making Lennie jump.

"Sorry," George whispered, tentatively parting my hair at the back.

Just like with Lennie, he was soft and gentle, being careful with what he was doing. His hands brushed my scalping, pushing the hair away, before dabbing at it lightly with the washcloth.

"Ow," I hissed, my eyes pinching together.

"Sorry."

"It's alright," I grimaced, leaning my head against my palm.

No matter how gentle, it was still painful, but at least he was gentle.

"Thank you, George," I whispered, closing my eyes.

"No, thank you," he said, giving my shoulder a faint squeeze. "Thank you…"

**Alright, that was chapter 7. By far longer than any of the others and also why I cut the previous one short. I hope that everyone liked it? I'd really love to hear some feedback on this on. Anyway, don't forget to REVIEW and MESSAGE me with your thoughts, opinions, ideas, and feelings on this chapter/ story. Thanks again everyone!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A Rancher's Touch**

**Chapter 8**

The next morning, I woke up to the feeling of a hand on my head, the person's fingers stroking my hair softly. I groaned faintly, before turning over, finding Slim sitting there in one of the chairs.

"Slim?" I whispered, trying to sit up.

"How's your head doin?" he asked, his head tilted to the side slightly.

"Sore," I groaned, pinching my eyes shut for a moment.

My head was pounding, worse than it was last night. It hurt like hell, like my head was a drum and someone was pounding on it with a heavy stick.

"Here," he said, offering me a glass of water and a couple pills.

I took them graciously, popping them into my mouth, before swallowing them with the water. I sighed after that, resting my head on my knees.

"What time is it?" I asked, looking down into the cup.

"Around lunch time," he told me.

"What?" I choked out, turning my head to look at him.

"You've been asleep all afternoon," he explained, brushing my hair back a bit when it fell in my face. "The boys are outside right now if you wanna see 'em," he said, hitching a finger behind him.

I sighed for a moment, and then nodded my head, throwing my feet over the side of the bunk. Slim immediately stood up and grabbed my arm, making sure that I had no chance of falling.

"Thanks, Slim," I smiled softly, leaning my head against his shoulder as we walked outside, the sun burning my eyes making me squint.

From where I stood, I could see George and Lennie at one of the table eating their food. George stopped though when he saw me, quietly standing up from his seat. I caught Slim smiling out of the corner of my eye when he saw this, before gently pushing me forward.

"Go on now, go get somethin to eat," he said, making his way back to the bunk house. "I'll grab your hat," he called over his shoulder, the sound of the door sounding behind him.

I just smiled as George came over, leading me over to the table.

"How ya feelin?" he asked, sitting down beside me, Lennie on his other side.

"Well, my head feels like a drum, and someone's keeps beating on it with a stick," I grimaced, hearing a faint chuckle from George.

"It'll do that to you," he said, handing me an apple.

"Thanks," I whispered, taking a bite.

It felt good to have some food in my system, even if it was much at the moment. After a few minutes though, Slim came back over, placing my hat on my head. It made me feel better having my head covered, shielding it from the sun and heat.

"After this, I'm gonna go back out with you guys," I told him, taking another bite out of my apple.

"I don't think so little missy. You're setting things out today," Slim told me, pointing a finger at me.

"I never said I had to do much," I argued, looking elsewhere. "I just don't need another reason for the old man to can me," I said quietly, before looking down at the table. "It's already bad enough that I'm a woman. I'm not as strong as you guys are. It'd give him an easy reason to can me if he found me slackin off in the bunk house."

"She can stick with me and Lennie," George said. "After all, we still got a good pill of sacks by that tree, so she can just sit there in the shade," he explained, looking over at me for a moment.

"Alright," Slim agreed, nodding his head. "But you take it easy, you hear?"

"I will, I promise," I said, a small smile on my face.

T

The sound of the cultivator and others were driving me nuts, the sounds stabbing at my eardrums. It was only multiplied because of my head, but it still drove me nuts. That was another reason why I was glad I was out of the way with George and Lennie, leaving me sitting against a tree far away from the rest of the team.

"You doin alright?" George asked, stopping for a moment in his work with Lennie.

"Yeah, I'm just hot…" I said quietly, closing my eyes.

That wasn't exactly true though. I mean it was, but it wasn't the whole truth. I was hot, but it wasn't exactly from the sun. At this point, I probably had a fever, and it was making me weak. Even the wet bandana around my neck wasn't doing much for me.

"You know, you don't look so good," George said carefully, crouching down in front of me.

I then felt him place the back of his hand against my forehead, feeling it. He then placed it against the side of my neck before finally pulling his hand back.

"You know, you're kinda hot," he pointed out, locking his eyes with mine.

"Tell me somethin I don't know," I said, trying to look elsewhere.

"You need some more rest," he told me, his gaze never wavering.

"I'll get some rest when we get back," I said quietly, resting my head on my knees.

"That and some aspirin," he added.

"I will, don't worry."

It wasn't too much longer after that when Curley's wife came around, twiddling her fingers and dabbing her forehead with a handkerchief.

"Hi boys," she smiled, walking toward George and Lennie.

George kept his eye on her as him and Lennie picked up another barley bag, carrying it over to the wagon and tossing it in. George was a bit apprehensive about the whole thing by the look on his face.

"It's hot out here," she said, dabbling at her forehead. "Not cool, like in the barn."

They just went and got another bag and brought it over, heaving it up and onto the wagon. George struggled with his end a bit, but still got it in, tugging it up a bit further. She didn't like being ignored, so when they when he went to go grab another bag, she decided to yell.

"I said, it's hot out here!"

The sound of her voice caused me to groan, covering my ears with my hands.

"Why don't you go back to your house now? We don't want no trouble," George said, moving back up to the wagon with Lennie, grain bag in their hands.

"I ain't givin you no trouble," she said, arms crossed over her chest.

They just threw the bag in, lining it up with the others.

"Think I don't like to talk to somebody every once in a while?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You got a husband. Go talk to him," he said, lifting another bag up. "Or you could always talk to Chris, that way it'd keep us outta trouble," George pointed out.

"Sure, I got a husband alright," she laughed. "Swell guy, ain't he?"

Lennie went back over to the pile, his eyes glancing over at her, before he stared at me. George stood there by the wagon, pulling the bag up a bit more to the front.

"Say, what happened to Curley's hand?" she asked smoothly, walking up to George, the only thing between them being the wagon.

"He got his hand caught in a machine," George answered, leaning forward a bit, his hands gripping the edge of the wagon.

"Baloney!" she laughed, pushing back away. "What you think you're sellin me?" she asked, a smile on her face.

She didn't believe a word that he'd said. She then tried taking it up with Lennie, walking toward him a bit as he stood there with a grain bag in his arms, hugging it to his body.

"How'd you get them bruises on your face?" she inquired.

"Who, me?" he asked, avoiding eye contact with her.

This time, he kept his eyes on me, avoid contact with her.

"Yeah, you," she giggled, standing there by the wagon awaiting her answer.

Lennie stood there for a minute, licking his lip as he shifted his feet, pulling his bag up to hide his face from her view.

"He got his hand caught in a machine," he said quietly, saying exactly the same thing that George had said, saying it word for word.

"Yeah, okay," she said softly, before walking off back toward the house, finally leaving us alone.

"It's alright Lennie, she's gone now," I told him, offering up a small smile.

It was obvious that he was uncomfortable having her around and I really couldn't blame him. A lot of the guys didn't like having her around them because that meant having to deal with Curley or taking the risk of being canned as a result. There were still a few though that enjoyed her presence, merely for the fact of staring at her.

"It's alright Lennie, just put the bag in the wagon," George said, walking over beside me and leaning against the tree.

I just lifted my head up and looked at him, finding him staring down at me. He pulled my hat off my head a moment later, leaving a curious look on my face.

"What?"

"Nothin," he said, shaking his head slightly.

He didn't give me my hat back though, just holding it in his hand as he stared out at the land. I still gave him a curious look though as I watched him, his eyes staring out at the mountains. It was a beautiful sight to be honest, one that I'd miss whenever I finally decided to leave. To be honest, Slim was probably the only thing that'd kept me here this long. Now, I found myself leaning toward George, wanting to know more about him. Him and Lennie both actually.

"Hey, George?"

"Yeah?"

"How…how long do you think you'll stay here?" I asked, looking up at him.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment before answering, his body slightly stiff.

"I don't know, maybe a month," he said, chancing a glance at me.

"Oh…"

I had to say, I was a bit disappointed, even though I knew the chances of him leaving after a moment due to the conversation that I'd heard last night.

"I've never really stayed in one place for too long," he told me, watching as Lennie continued to pile bags into the bag of the wagon.

"Haven't you ever wanted to stay in one place for a while?" I asked.

"Maybe," he shrugged, his hand curling around the rim of my hat a bit more.

"You know, I've never told this to anyone before, but Slim is really the only thing keeping me here," I said quietly.

"Why's that?" George inquired, looking down at me with curiosity.

"He's like you," I said, catching his attention.

"How so?"

"He makes me feel safe."

T

"We're gonna go into town, you wanna come Chris?" Whitt asked, fixing his shirt.

"I think I'll pass," I said flatly, laying my jacket on top of myself like a cover.

"Aw, come on Chris, have a bit of fun," he whined.

"Whitt, I don't drink, and you know that," I said.

"Come on, just a few," he said, trying to persuade me.

"Whitt," Slim warned. "Leave her alone."

Whitt finally sighed in defeat as he grabbed his jacket.

"Party pooper," he muttered, before walking out.

I just stuck my tongue out at him, earning a chuckle from George and Slim.

"We'll be back after a while," Slim told me, walking over and ruffling the front of my hair. "Come on George, let's go," Slim said.

"I don't know," he said hesitantly.

"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on Lennie for you until you get back," I told him, sitting up in my bed.

"You sure Chris?" George asked, ready to stay if I wasn't sure.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Now, get outta here and have some fun," I said quietly, stretching my arm out.

"Well, if you're sure…"

"Go on," I smiled, letting out a small yawn.

"Come on, George, let's go," Slim said, grabbing him by the jacket and pulling him out of the room.

I couldn't help, but to laugh at this, watching as they left. George was so reluctant, almost as if he'd rather not go. It put me at ease though, knowing that he likely wouldn't do much of anything. Sure, he'd probably have a drink or two, but that'd be away it.

It was about a hour later that Lennie finally came in, looking around and finding everyone gone.

"Why don't you come over here and sit down," I suggested, pulling my legs up and patting the spot next to me on the bed.

"Okay," he said, walking over and sat down.

Even though he was a big guy, he was just like a little kid.

"Look at me for a second," I said, reaching out and placing my hands on the sides of his face.

He stared at me as I did this, sitting there quietly as I ran my fingertips lightly over the cuts and bruises. Curley had definitely done a number on him, that was for sure. His lip was busted and he had cuts on his forehead and cheeks, right below his eyes.

"He never should of hit you," I whispered, my thumb rubbing back and forth over his cheek.

He seemed astonished to a degree, not used to what I was doing, but he seemed to like it.

"That feels nice," he snickered softly, before closing his eyes.

I just smiled at this, though it soon turned sad as I thought about my brother. I'd done that to him many times before, but that was so long ago. I'd even run my hand through his hair at times when he was upset or scared, even when he was sick. Even when he'd ask me too, but that was so very long ago.

"So, how's that puppy of yours?" I asked.

"I like that pup," he smiled, making my laugh.

"I'm sure you do."

Unfortunately, I knew that I couldn't ask him much in the way of questions because he likely wouldn't know how to answer. Apparently, I didn't have to though once he started talking.

"We, we gonna get a like place and I get to tend the rabbits," he said happily.

"Really now?"

"Mmhm. I get to tend them rabbits and feel them with the fingers," he said.

"Why don't you tell me about it?" I asked, leaning back into my pillow.

"We going to get a little place and live off the fat of the land," he started, making a few gestures with his hands. "We gonna have a little stove and the rabbits and the garden," he said, counting each thing off on his fingers. "We gonna have stuff in the garden and cream on the milk."

He just kept listing things off as I laid there, smiling at him. In my head, I could see everything.

"We going to have a room to ourselves and a little stove. George even said we could have them different colored rabbits," he said happily, a large smile on his face.

"That sounds wonderful Lennie," I smiled. "I used to have a little place of my own too," I told him, catching his attention.

"Tell about that place?" he asked, staring at me expectantly.

"Well, we had about five acres and a two story house," I started, thinking back to the last time that I'd been there. "We have a little stove too and a bunch of cabinets," I said, remembering everything. "There was plenty of room. Outside, we had chickens and a cow," I said.

"What kind of cow?"

"A big spotted one," I smiled, watching the excitement on his face.

"You have rabbits?"

"No, we didn't have any rabbits, but we had a couple cats. We had a dog once too," I said sadly.

"What kind of dog?" he asked.

I paused for a moment as I sat there, thinking things through.

"It was a big dog," I started, looking down at my hands. "It was dark brown, like chocolate."

"I like chocolate."

"He had these bright blue eyes and black tipped ears. His tail was long and bushy, but he was so soft," I whispered. "He was my brother's dog."

"Was it a nice dog?" he asked.

"Yeah…he was," I smiled, scratching the back of my neck.

"What you have in your garden?" he asked.

"Well, we had carrots, cabbage, tomatoes, and pumpkins. We had corn, green bean, and wheat in the fields. We grew a lot of stuff," I told him, letting out a small yawn.

"You tired?"

"A bit."

He tilted his head to the side, staring at me, before gripping the bottom of my sleeve. He seemed to be making a habit of that, but I didn't really mind that much to be honest. It kind of made me feel like I was needed.

T

Before long, Lennie's talking had lulled Chris to sleep, allowing her to lay there and relax on her bed. The redness in her face had gone away now for the most part, but there was still a trace of it hiding there on her face. Lennie sat with her though for about another hour, touching and stroking her hair. He thought that it was soft, so he couldn't help it. After he was done though, he decided to get up, stepping outside. George wasn't back yet, so Lennie had nothing to do. That was, until he saw a light in the barn and decided to investigate.

T

"Lennie?" George called, walking into the bunk house.

He was nowhere to be seen though, merely leaving Chris and Candy as the only occupants.

"Chris?" George called, walking over to her bed. "Chris," he tried, shaking her shoulder lightly.

She groaned after a minute, cracking her eyes open tiredly.

"George?" she whispered, squinting her eyes for a moment. "I thought you were out with the guys," she said quietly, her eyes wandering for a moment.

"I was, but I'm back now," he told her, sitting down beside her on the bed.

"Did you have fun?"

"I guess," he shrugged, although it was obvious that he was lying.

He really hadn't done much though, save for sit around and watch everyone else. Yeah, he'd had a woman try to get to get it on with him, but he had turned her down. That had left a few guys staring at him in disbelief, but he didn't really care. For some reason, it just didn't feel right. So, all he really did was have a single beer as he sat around, his mind wandering back to Lennie and Chris as they had stayed behind. Maybe if Chris had come along with them, then he'd have had a bit more fun, but that was neither here nor there. She wasn't feeling well and she needed rest, he knew that and so did the others, even if they didn't say much about it.

"How are you feelin?" he asked, placing the back of his hand to her forehead like he had done earlier that day.

Her fevered had broken considerably, but her face was still slightly red. At this point though, it could probably pass off as blush if she actually wore makeup, but she wasn't like Curley's wife. No, she preferred to be herself, and that's what George found most beautiful. She tried hard, working hard, and played hard to a degree. She wasn't afraid to be herself, even if she got criticized for it, she wasn't going to hide.

"A bit better, but my head still hurts," she admitted, looking up at him.

He gave her a small smile, gently reaching out and pushing a bit of hair out of her face. She still looked so tired and worn out. In fact, it didn't even look like she was fully awake.

"Have you seen Lennie?" he asked.

"Lennie?" she asked, looking around the room. "He was just here," she murmured, her eyes drooping a bit.

"He must have gone back to the barn," George concluded in annoyance, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry," she yawned, giving him an apologetic look.

"Don't worry about," he said, grabbing her canteen and a bottle of aspirin. "Here, take this," he said, unscrewing the top of her canteen and handing her a few pills.

She took them from his hand and popped them into her mouth, before taking a drink of water, swallowing them. She let out a sigh afterward, before letting out another yawn. She was trying so hard to stay awake and he admired that, but he knew she should go back to sleep so he stood up, taking the bottle of pills and setting them down on the shelf between their bunks.

"Why don't you go back to sleep now," he suggested.

"But what about Lennie?"

"Don't you worry about that, I'll take care of it," he assured her, walking over toward the door. "Now, get some sleep," he finished, before walking out of the bunk house and toward the barn.

**Alright, that was chapter 8. I hope that everyone enjoyed it. Please, let me know what you think? I'd love to hear feedback. Don't forget to REVIEW and MESSAGE me with your thoughts, opinions, ideas, and feelings on this chapter/story. Reviews keep me happy and writing. Thanks everyone! And don't forget to check out my PROFILE for other stories that you might like.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A Rancher's Touch**

**Chapter 9**

The next morning was quiet, letting everyone sleep in. It was Sunday, so everyone had the day off to do as they pleased. Chris took this time to sleep in though, curling up on her bed as everyone else messed around outside or played cards. It also left George thinking about last night as he played horseshoes with the boys.

After he'd brought Lennie back inside, he'd started talking George's ear off about things that Chris had told him. How she used to have a place of her own, though George knew it was likely with either her parents or fiancé. More so her parents.

He'd kept going on and on about her little five acre place, how she'd had a big spotted cow, to what she'd had in her garden and fields, even about her brother's dog and the color of it's fur. He did all this with a smile on his face.

At the moment though, Lennie was out in the barn playing with his pup from what George knew, leaving him playing horseshoes with the guys.

"Come on, George, you can do it," a few of the boys called, watching as he lined up the throw.

It landed a bit short though by about two inches. He still felt pretty good about it though, making it that close. He then watched as Slim threw his, coming a few inches close to George's foot, making him move back a bit.

"Sorry about that George," Slim chuckled.

George just kept a smile on his face as he moved forward, picking the horseshoes up in his hands, before handing one off to Crooks. After that, he lined his throw up again and letting it go, watching as it sailed through the air. A moment later, the ringing of a winner echoed around them, cheers being thrown out. It even made him wonder what Chris would say if she'd seen it, making him turn his head back to the bunk house for a moment. He'd check on her in a bit, possibly pull her out of bed and into their little horseshoe game. It'd be nice to see her try her hand at it.

"Anyone wanna go drag Chris outta bed?" Whitt grinned, looking around him.

George was about to say something, but Whitt ran off before he could do anything, running toward the bunk house.

"What do you think he'll do Slim?" Carlson asked, glancing over at the man.

"I don't know, but you can be sure it won't end well."

Then, before they knew it, they heard Chris yelling with Whitt running out the door. He had a grin on his face as he ran out, running back toward everyone, Chris marching out of the bunk house after him.

"Whitt!" she screamed, her face red in irritation.

"What'd you go and do?" Slim asked, eyeing him up.

"Whitt, I swear I'm gonna smacked you!" Chris yelled, making her way over to him as he tried to hide behind the others.

This left George grabbing a hold of her since he was closest to her, holding her back.

"George, let me go," she growled, trying to break loose from his hold, but he wouldn't let go.

"Chris, what'd he do?" Slim asked.

"Well as if it wasn't already bad enough that he was calling me Christine again, the damn punk gave me a wetwilly," she cried, her face turning red in embarrassment.

"Why you," Slim started, smacking Whitt in the back of the head. "Can't you ever leave her alone boy?"

"I say let her go to have at him," Carlson snorted, crossing his arms over his chest with a grin on his face.

"Just calm down," George said quietly, loud enough for her to hear it.

"But it's disgusting!" she cried, trying to wriggle free again, but he still held strong.

"Calm down and I'll let you go," he said firmly, his voice still calm.

"Come on, George," she pleaded, looking up at him.

He loosened his grip a bit at the look on her face, eyes pleading. He was then reminded of her anger though and kept his hold on her, her back against his chest. Then after a moment she sighed, letting her weight lean against him a bit.

"Fine…" she groaned, the back of her head leaning back against his shoulder.

He let go a moment later, allowing her to take a step forward, eyes narrowing a bit in Whitt's direction.

"Well, since you're up now, why don't you join our little game," Slim proposed, gesturing toward the horseshoes.

"Sure, why not," she sighed, looking around for a horseshoe.

She was soon met with one as George held it out to her, a small smile on his face.

"Thanks," she whispered, taking it from his hand, their fingertips brushing lightly as she took it.

She then turned around, eyeing the ground for a moment as she readied her throw. Then, she leaned forward, just for a moment. Her eyes narrowed in on the spot, her arm flying forward, the horseshoe sailing through the air toward it's mark. A ringer.

"Happy now?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Slim just chuckled and shook his head as others cheered, her arms crossing over her chest. She was something else, that was for sure.

"Why don't you try again, so 'em what you can do," Slim grinned, knowing full well she could kick all their butts if she concentrated hard enough.

"You just get a kick outta watchin me do this," she grumbled, taking the horseshoe that Crooks held out to her, closing her eyes for a moment.

"Maybe I do," he shrugged. "But you have to admit that it's entertaining watching the looks on everyone's faces whenever you get a ringer," he chuckled.

"So true," she grinned, before throwing the horseshoe, hearing it smack against the metal stake.

She'd been so close, if only it hadn't spun a bit, then it would have landed where it should have. A few of the guys merely chuckled at this, while George gave her a gentle pat on the back.

"Well, at least you're better than me, that's for sure," he said in a friendly manner, making her smile.

"Alright, give her another boys," Slim called, folding his arms over his chest, a grin on his face.

"Here," Pete said, holding his out to her.

She took it from him a moment later, eyeing the metal stake in the ground once more.

"You can do it," George whispered, standing behind her as he watched.

She looked over her shoulder for a moment, their eyes locking with one another, before she turned around. Again, her eyes narrowed in on her target, spreading her feet again. She could hear Slim smacking one of the guys in the back of the head for a comment they'd made, but it made little difference to her. It was just her and the horseshoe.

"Concentrate."

"You can do it."

"Come on, Chris."

And then it went flying, ramming right into the stake with a clinking noise and a ring.

"Oh yeah!"

"Nice job Chris," Slim grinned.

She just smiled at him as she stood straight again, scratching the back of her head.

"Now, if you guys will excuse me, I'm gonna go back to the bunk house now for a bit more shuteye," she said, quickly walking off before anyone could grab her and drag her back.

"Seriously, she just gonna walk away?" Whitt whined.

"Ah, just leave her be Whitt. She's probably still hurting from the other night," Slim said quietly, wiping his brow.

What she really went to do though was write something, scrawling out a short letter.

T

It wasn't long before Candy came walking out of the barn and over to George, his eyes locking with George blue one as he stood there tossing water on himself in an attempt to cool himself off. Candy didn't say a word though, just stared, George's smile slowly falling from his face. He knew that look, but he wasn't sure he was ready for it, not again.

And so, George followed Candy into the barn, his feet moving slowly over the dusty ground. He dreaded what was in the barn, praying to God it was all just a misunderstanding of sorts. He wasn't so lucky.

There in the barn lay Curley's wife, laying there in a pile of hay. She wasn't moving, looking as though she were asleep, but George knew otherwise when he knelt down beside her. He tried shaking her lightly, but she didn't move. George even pulled her up into his arms a bit, but when he did her head rolled off to the side. It was broken, Lennie had broken her neck, even though it was on accident. He'd killed her.

"I can't do this," he whispered, standing up from his spot beside the broken woman.

He didn't know what to do as he got up, walking over to one of the beams. He just stood there shaking his head, before slamming his forehead against the hard wood.

"Damn it!" he choked out, his shoulders shaking slightly as Candy stood behind him, merely watching him with a sympathetic look on his face.

"What we gonna do now, George?" he asked quietly.

"We gotta tell the guys," he managed to scrape out.

"No, we ought to let him get away," Candy told him. "You don't know that Curley. Curley's gonna want to get him lynched," Candy shook out, not wanting to see that happen to Lennie.

"I ain't gonna let him hurt Lennie," George said firmly, sweat rolling down the side of his face, his eyes still a bit watery.

George walked around for a moment, glancing back over at Curley's wife as he tried to pull himself together before he could break down. He couldn't afford to break down here, not now, but he was scared.

"All right, now, listen," he started shakily. "The guys might think I was in on it…so I'll gonna go in the bunk house and then you give me a minute," he breathed. "Then you come out and tell the guys about it and then I'll come along and make like I never seen her. Will you do that?" he nearly pleaded, trying to keep calm.

"Sure, George," Candy agreed quietly, finding it hard his own self.

From there, George slowly made his trek out of the barn, tears in his eyes as he stepped out into the light. He walked right passed everyone, the game completely forgotten now in his mind as he made toward the bunk house, his body on autopilot as his mind fell apart on itself. George knew that this might finally be the end to all things, the end to his dream, the end of his chance at normalcy. Any chance that he might have had with Chris was now over, their short time now coming to an end. Already, he found himself missing it, longing for just one more day.

T

I sat there on my bed, rereading the letter that I'd wrote. It wasn't much, but at least it was something. So, finding myself satisfied with my little letter I reached over, placing the folded paper into George's jacket pocket. It was then that George came in, his posture off and his face scrunched up. I'd never seen him like this before. In fact, I'd never seen any guy like that.

"George?" I called out his name hesitantly, slowly standing from my bed.

He just pulled Carlson's gun from under the bunk, tentatively grabbing a bullet from the shelf.

"George?" I hesitated, making my way toward him.

Finally, he looked up at me, his eyes broken and teary. There was definitely something wrong.

"Geogre…w-what happened?" I whispered, reaching out and placing a hand on his arm.

The poor man looked so vulnerable standing there in front of me that it broke my heart.

"You'll find out soon enough," he whispered, walking passed me and grabbing his jacket, before pulling it on.

I felt myself start to shake as I stood there watching him. He was so shaken up, his face looking as though he'd lost all hope. It left me with a fearful feeling.

"George," I whispered.

"Slim, somethin happened to Curley's wife!" I heard Candy yelling form outside.

That's when it hit me. Lennie.

T

I stood there, staring out at the scene before us. It left me shaking as I stood there near George, my back pressed against one of the beams. I could feel my eyes start to sting. She was dead, Curley's wife was dead.

"That loony son of a bitch done it," Curley breathed out, holding Lennie's cap in his hand.

There was no disputing it now, Lennie had killed her. The thought tore away at me.

"I'm gonna get him. I'm gonna get my rifle and I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch myself," Curley spat out, before quickly stalking out of the barn.

"I'll get my gun," Carlson announced, moving out of the barn as well.

"I'll go with you," one of the guys said.

"Tom, let's go get the horses," came another and two more were gone, Whitt running along after them as well.

"I guess Lennie done it all right," Slim said quietly, coming to stand before George. "Her neck's bust."

I just kept a hand over my mouth as I stood there, quietly watching as everything went on.

"Lennie could have done that?" Slim asked hesitantly, his hat in his hands.

George's silence was enough of an answer for him.

"I guess we gotta get him," Slim said quietly.

"Couldn't you just bring him in and lock him up?" George asked, trying to plead with him. "He's nuts. He never done this to be mean," he pressed.

"If we could keep Curley in, we might…but Curley's gonna wanna shoot him," Slim told him. "And suppose they lock him up and strap him down and put him in a cage. That ain't no good, George," Slim said, shaking his head.

It was true, something like that wasn't any good. Lennie didn't deserve something like that. He didn't deserve a torture like that, being locked away for the rest of his life, that wasn't anyway for someone like him to live.

"Come on men, let's get a move on it!" Curley yelled, walking back in with his gun in hand.

"The bastard stole my gun, it ain't in my bunk," Carlson exclaimed.

"The nigger's got a shotgun, take his," Curley said.

"Curley, maybe you'd better stay here with your wife," Slim suggested, not wanting him to come on this little hunt.

"Oh, no, God damn it," Curley grinned madly. "I'm gonna kill the son of a bitch myself," he said, locking eyes with George just to rub it in. "Come on! Let's move!" he yelled, quickly walking out of the barn.

Everyone else followed, a mess of horses outside as they piled around, mounting up on the horses. I just followed quietly behind George and Candy, arms wrapped around myself. It was obvious that there was a chance George wouldn't be coming back after this. There was something inside me nagging at the back of my mind telling me so.

"Whitt, Carlson, you fellas right with me," Slim said, moving toward his horse.

"Anyone finds him first, you hold him till I get there cuz I want the first crack at him!" Curley ordered. "Slim, take your men south. I'm gonna take my men north. Let them go!" he yelled, the dogs running free a moment later.

I just watched as they ran off, Curley following behind them as he continued to bark orders. The others came riding up behind him, following close behind, while Whitt and Carlson started off the other way with Slim. God, I couldn't take his.

"What you gonna do?" Candy asked, following as George started walking at a fast pace. "George?"

"I've gotta find Lennie before they get to him," he said hurriedly.

"You gonna help him get away?" Candy asked.

"I don't know, I…I don't know what I'm gonna do," he said frantically, jumping over the fence.

"George!" I called out, but he was already running toward the trees.

"I'm sorry!" he called over his shoulder, putting everything he had into running.

I couldn't take it anymore as I stood there, tears slowly falling from my eyes.

"Candy," I whispered, watching George slowly disappear.

His eyes were full of sorrow as he stood there, turning his head and staring back at me. I realized that his hopes had been dashed. It's also when I realized something else. He was headed toward the river.

I felt my eyes widen slightly in realization as I stood there.

"I know where he's going!" I exclaimed, quickly running off toward the bunk house.

I nearly tripped as I scrambled up the stairs, slamming the door open. I then went over to my bed, tugging the mattress up and grabbed what was there. After that, I scooping up George's blankets and belts up into my arms, along with the rope. I couldn't let him leave without his bindle. I knew better then that.

"Chris?" I heard Candy called out.

"I'm sorry Candy, I have to hurry," I said quickly, running out the door.

I grabbed the only horse that was left, mounting it as I gripped the reigns.

"I'm gonna get them out of here," I said, kicking the horse hard in the sides. "Come on boy!" I cried urging him forward toward the fence.

"Hurry," Candy cried, watching as I raced toward the fence, pushing the horse into a jump.

He went flying over the fence in a heartbeat, racing forward down the path.

I knew it was a long shot, but I had to try. I knew they were already good as canned and Lennie was as good as dead if anyone got a hold of him. I couldn't allow that to happen though. I couldn't let them kill such a gentle man. I also couldn't let them put it on George either and that's why I had to get to them before it was too late.

"Come on, faster," I hissed, kicking the horse in the sides with my heels again, riding him low.

He kept running, galloping down the slope, nearly tripping down it. I kept the reigns wrapped tight around my wrists though, guiding him passed the trees and roots, pulling him off to the side as we hit a drop.

"Come on," I breathed, pushing him harder.

I could hear the dogs barking in the distance, the guys taking a far different path than what I was. I knew that if I kept on this path that I'd reach George in no time.

As I rode, my mind kept wandering back to the talks that I'd had with George, the time that we'd shared. I was reminded of Lennie, the innocent childlike nature that he held. I went back to their smiles, George's laugh. I thought back to his gentle touch and his quiet nature. The man had been kind enough to offer me his jacket when I was cold, he'd come after me when I was upset, I'd told him about my ex and he'd listened to me, he'd saved me from falling out of the wagon. Lennie had sat with me and kept me company the night Carlson had shot Candy's dog, putting me at ease, he became my friend like George. I'd heard their dreams and ambitions, the things that obviously kept George going. I couldn't let all of that just disappear.

I was almost there, I could feel it as the branches caught in my hair, other scratching and cutting at my face. It tried pulling me back, that was, until I heard the gun shot.

"No…" I whispered.

I could feel my heart stop as I fumbled, nearly falling off my horse.

"Lennie…" I whispered, tears forming in my eyes, the sound of dogs barking meeting my ears.

That was when I got off my horse, running forward through the water. I found George a bit further up, sitting there on his knees, gun in hand. Lennie was laying on the ground motionless.

"George," I choked out, catching his attention.

He looked like a wild animal that'd been backed up into a cage. He was scared and frightened, that much was obvious.

"George," I whispered, slowly moving toward him.

He just sat there, not even bothering to get up from where he sat.

"I-I had to," he choked out, his face in his hand. "They would have killed him."

"It's alright," I whispered, falling to my knees beside him.

Like him, I too found myself shaking , not knowing what to do. I just pulled him toward me, pulling his head against my chest as I gripped the back of his jacket. I felt him grip my shirt we sat there, his body shaking. I knew why he'd done it, I knew why he'd shot Lennie. He'd done it to protect him, protect him from Curley and the others. I also knew that he'd done it out of love. George loved Lennie like family, he couldn't let someone else kill him, that's why he did it. He'd had no time to make any other choice and so he had to shoot him.

Soon after, Curley and his men were upon us, obviously hearing the gun shot.

"I said not to kill him!" Curley yelled, glaring daggers at George.

"Leave him alone Curley," I warned, sitting there with him.

That didn't go over to well with Curley as he got off his horse and walked over, making to grab George. I stood up though, blocking him from Curley's on coming assault.

"Leave him the hell alone Curley," I glared, pushing him away.

He grabbed my arm though, twisting it a bit.

"I suggest you get outta my way _Christine_," he seethed.

"No," I said definantly as I stood there, glaring at him.

"What was that?" he asked, pulling me close until I was nose to nose with him.

"I said, no."

He was probably only three seconds away from hitting me when Slim came in, pulling him off of me.

"That's enough, Curley, it's done," Slim said, blocking me from his view.

I just sat back down with George, placing my hands on either side of his head. He looked so broken, so destroyed and crippled. He looked like a shell of a man.

"I promise you, it'll be alright," I whispered, gently rubbing my thumb back and forth over his cheek as I tried to wipe away the tears and the wetness of his eyes. "Go home, Curley," I ordered, refusing to look at the outraged man.

"I won't be told what to do by some damnable woman!" he shouted.

"Go home boy," I hissed, drawing George to me once more.

**Okay, that was chapter 9. This also means that we are now at the end of the book, but don't worry. This is NOT the end of the story, there's still more coming. PLEASE remember to REVIEW and MESSAGE me with your thoughts, opinions, ideas, and feelings on this chapter/story. I REALLY want FEEDBACK on this chapter. Feedback helps me write and makes me happy. Anyway, let me know what you think PLEASE? Also, don't forget to check out my PROFILE for other STORIES that you might like. I've got a wide variety. Thanks everyone!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A Rancher's Touch**

**Chapter 10**

It was hard to sit there with everyone staring at us, but before too long they went, leaving behind only three. It was just me, Slim, and George.

"So, what are you goin to do now," Slim asked quietly, looking back over at George.

He was standing now, about a foot between us.

"I…I don't know," he whispered, his eyes cast down toward the ground.

I felt for him, I really did.

"I can't go back there now," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No, you can't," I whispered quietly, letting my hand touch his arm, my fingers brushing the material of his jacket.

That much was true, a sad realization. He wouldn't be welcomed back. He'd likely be canned on the spot upon return.

"Curley would try to have you thrown in the slammer if you went back," I said sadly. "I won't let him do that to you."

"She's right George. You can't stay here any longer," Slim announced, giving us both a sympathetic look.

George just nodded his head slowly, licking his bottom lip for a moment, his eyes turning toward the trees. I felt a tug at my heart as we stood there, urging myself to speak. I could hear one of the dogs in the distance.

"I guess…this is it then," he said, looking between me and Slim.

I could feel my bottom lip quiver slightly.

"Yeah…" Slim nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, before you go, I brought your stuff," I said, catching his attention.

He obviously hadn't expected it, making me smile a bit.

"I…I had a feeling something would happen, so I brought it with me," I explained, walking back through the water toward me horse, the water splashing around my feet as I clicked my tongue.

He came trotting forward, rearing his head for a moment, before I took his reigns in my hand. I brought him over to George. Again, my hands shook as I stood there, holding the reigns out to George.

"Chris?" he gave me a curious look.

"Take him, he'll get you into Soledad safely," I told him, looking him in his eyes.

They were still watery, blinking as he stood there, but something had been cut away. Lennie.

"Here," I pushed them into his hand as I took in a breath, trying to hold myself together.

"Chris, we should go before they get suspicious," Slim said reluctantly.

I held my breath for a moment as I stood there, running a hand through my hair. I then found myself turning back to George as he stood by the horse, wrapping my arms around him. I felt him return the gesture after a moment, his eyes gazing down at me with an unknown affection.

"I'm sorry, George," I whispered, pulling back after a moment.

I then took his hand in mine, pressing a handful of bills into his palm. The shock on his face was visible as I stared up at him, tugging a small smile onto my face.

"I want you to take this, alright," I told him, closing his hand. "Take this and take care of yourself," I told him.

"Why are you…why are you doing this?" he asked, his brows furrowing in question.

"I don't know," I laughed, my smile falling a bit. "Maybe that knock to the head did more than I thought," I joked.

That wasn't true though, I knew exactly what I was doing. I just wanted to keep him safe any way that I could. I wanted to give him a chance at a future, at happiness, even if I couldn't stand by him and watch.

"I can't accept this," he said, shaking his head as he tried to give it back.

"N-no, George. I know what I'm doing," I told him, shaking my head. "I want you to take this and use it," I said, gently placing a hand on his cheek, gazing into those stunning blue eyes of his. "Take it and don't give up on that dream of yours," I whispered.

"What?"

I didn't give him the chance to say much though as I leaned up and pressed my lips to the corner of his mouth for a brief moment, feeling his lips part slightly. I felt my eyes water as I pulled away, giving him the best smile I could muster up.

"Don't forget about me?" I whispered.

"Chris, we gotta go," Slim pushed, dogs barking in the background.

They were coming back again, coming back for George.

"I won't forget," George whispered, gripping my hand lightly.

"Take care, George," I nodded, turning back around to face Slim. "Let's go," I swallowed, biting my lip.

He nodded, taking my hand in his as he led me back up into the clearing and to his horse, pulling me up with him.

"Chris?" George called, causing me to turn my head back, eyes longing for one last glance. "Thank you."

"Take care, George," I smiled, gripping Slim's waist as he kicked off, driving the horse back toward the ranch.

I felt tears fall from my eyes though as I pressed my face into his back, sniffling a bit. I didn't like death, he knew that as well as anyone because we'd talked about it before. I didn't like gun either. Worst of all, I hated goodbyes and unfortunately, this was goodbye.

T

George stood there, a frown on his face as he watched her walk away. He wished he could ask her to come with him, but he knew it wasn't possible. After all, he had nothing to give her, nothing at all. He was just another man. She's undoubtedly find someone else, but that thought hurt for reasons he wasn't sure that he wanted to admit. Besides, it's wasn't possible to care about someone after only knowing them a week.

He shook his head at this. That wasn't exactly true because she wasn't like everyone else. No, Chris was different. She was a kind woman with a big heart. She was caring, not spiteful. She was special. Then, there was also the kiss.

"Chris," he whispered, watching her mount Slim's horse, her arms wrapping around his waist.

How he wished to have her arms back around him again, holding him to her, his head buried against her skin. He could still feel her lips on his, even if it wasn't straight on, her lips had still touched his. They'd been soft against his skin, so soft and gentle. He wished he could feel it once more, one more time.

"Chris?" he called out quickly, before they could go.

He watched her head whip around quickly, a fleeting hope floating in her eyes. He wasn't sure what to say. He wished to tell her how he felt, to thank her properly. He couldn't seem to get the right words out though.

"Thank you," he said, his hand curling at his side.

He could have sworn that he saw a tear fall as she sat there on the horse behind Slim, her bottom lip quivering. She looked like she was about to break down in tears.

"Take care, George," she choked out, a smile on her face.

He then watched as she tightened her grip around Slim's waist, while he kicked off, steering the horse back to the ranch. This left him standing there, an even greater emptiness gnawing away at him. Lennie was dead and now Chris was gone. He'd likely never see her smile again. With that in his mind, he shoved the money into his pocket, and mounted the horse she'd left for him. Then, with one finally look, he rode off up and through the field. He was headed for Soledad. After that, not even he knew.

**Okay, that was chapter 10. I hope everyone liked it, even if it was a bit short. Chapter 11 will be out soon as well. Anyway don't forget to REVIEW and MESSAGE me with your thoughts, opinions, ideas, and feelings on this chapter/story. I love hearing FEEDBACK. It helps me write. Anyway, thanks for reading everyone!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A Rancher's Touch**

**Chapter 11**

By next week's end, George had finally made his way to Fresno, finally allowing himself to relax. He'd wanted to get a ways away from Soledad and he had. He'd made up his mind though to at least write Candy, letting him know what was going on and where he'd gone. He'd even thought of sending a letter to Chris, just to let her know that he was okay. After all, that was the least that he could do.

By mid day, he'd settled himself into a small inn above one of the bars. He was tired and wanted a safe place to stay for the night. So after paying a small fee, he was led up to a room with a bed and nightstand, no bathroom. The only bathroom was downstairs in the bar, leaving him trekking down the steps for possible use if he needed it.

"What am I goin to do?" he breathed, dropping his bindle down beside the small makeshift bed.

He then took his jacket off, tossing it onto the bed. He was met with a surprise though when he heard the faint ruffle of paper, causing him to reach over, searching his pockets. His eyes fell up a folded note within his right pocket, raising an eyebrow in question, before tentatively unfolding it.

George's jaw went slack when he saw the writing, the name scrawled down at the bottom of the page. The letter was from Chris. How he'd gotten it, he had no clue. He found himself staring speechless as he read it though, slowly sitting down on the edge of the bed.

_Dear George,_

_I know that you're probably going to find this a bit odd, but I could think of no other way to get these thoughts out of my head. Unfortunately, I've always found it easier to get things out in writing than speaking, that way I don't have to worry about what I'm trying to say or the reaction._

_George, you are a wonderful person. I just wanted to let you know that. I've seen a side of you I wasn't sure I'd find. Unlike most men…I've come to find comfort in having you near. I know it's silly, but it's true. Something about you puts me at ease, letting me know that I'm in safe hands. Like Lennie, you are a gentle man, that much is clear. Like Slim, your easy to talk to because I know that you understand. You may not say much at times, but having you around is enough to keep me sane._

_Honestly, I guess the real reason I'm writing this is so that I can express my gratitude to you maybe. You've kindly tolerated me being around. I know there's a bit more to it than that though. You've been decent in your respectful nature, far more than most. You are a great man George and I'm grateful to have met you and have you as a friend. Also, since I'm being honest, it's only right that you know I heard your conversation with Candy. I'd didn't mean to listen in, but I couldn't help it as you spoke of your dream. That little ten acre place you were looking to get._

_Personally, I didn't think I'd ever be able to settle down in a place like that again, but after I heard you talk about it the way that you did…it made me want to try. I think that after eight years, I might just be ready for a change, but I don't know. Just promise me though that you won't be like me, that you won't give up on your dream? It's been so long that I've forgotten mine. I'd hate to see that happen to anyone else. Also, no matter what happens, never forget the friends that you make, okay? You and Lennie have given me something special. So no matter what happens, I know I'll never forget either of you._

_Love, Christine_

_p.s. Don't be afraid to speak up every now and then. I like you George, so I don't mind hanging around from time to time._

George felt a faint chuckle escape his lips, though it was sad. In a way, he felt as though he had taken it for granted, having someone around other than Lennie that seemed to give notice to him. Chris truly cared, that much was clear. By writing this letter, she was trying to reach out as best she could. It was something that was obviously hard for her to do, awkward even. That was why she had written the letter instead of talking to him herself. Some things were just hard to explain, even in writing like she had tried to do.

"Damn it," he breathed, running a hand through his hair.

He honestly wished that he could have stayed, especially after she had come to him and comforted him the way that she had. She had stuck her neck out for him trying to help him out. She hadn't even said much to him when they had sat there on the ground together, merely holding him against her, his head to her chest. Her arms had been comforting, something that he hadn't felt in years. It had been soothing, her hand in his hair, the touch on his cheek. She'd even wiped away his tears, her eyes seeing him no differently than before. She was so accepting, caring, loving even. Curley could have easily broken her arm for standing up for him, but she didn't back down. No, she took it like the strong spirited woman that she was. She had stood up for him and defied Curley without a second thought. Although, when she had pressed the kiss to his lips, he'd found himself stunned and shocked. He'd been unsure of what to do and now he regretted it because he'd likely never have that chance again.

T

I laid there on my bed staring up at the wooden ceiling of the bunk house. It'd been about two weeks now since George had left. Since then, I'd found myself at a loss of sorts. It bothered me that I couldn't concentrate on anything, leaving me walking around like a shell. For everyone else though, it was like nothing had ever happened really. Perhaps that's what bugged me most. Some of them acted like George and Lennie had never existed at all. I mean yes, Curley's wife was gone, but they didn't even seem to care that Lennie was gone too.

"Hey, Chris, you comin this time?" I heard Whitt ask as he finished tying his shoes.

"Come on, Chris, it'll do ya some good to get out of here," Slim said, grabbing his hat from one of the hooks.

"Fine," I sighed, getting up off my bed.

They were heading out again tonight like they normally did once a week on Saturday. Any other time I'd just stay back, but I needed something to take my mind off of everything, since nothing seemed to help me. Perhaps this time I'd do me some good though. Perhaps it would take my mind off of Lennie and George and give me some peace.

T

"Come on, let's get a drink," Whitt grinned after we walked in, grabbing me, and dragging me through the crowd of people.

I just sighed and let him drag me, all the while wishing George were here. At least then, I'd have some decent company, even if he was fairly quiet and reserved at times.

"You need to loosen up a bit," Whitt said, throwing his arm over my shoulders and pulling me close.

"Um, yeah, I'll leave that to you," I said flatly.

"Burbon and whiskey," Whitt called, placing money down on the counter. "Two of them."

A moment later, we were served our drinks, Whitt sliding mine into my hand.

"I don't wanna be here," I muttered quietly, moving over to one of the walls away from everything once he removed his arm.

Whitt didn't even realize that I'd snuck off until he turned around, looking all over the place. This made me chuckle as I watched, leaning up against the wall as I began to drain my drink, the cool liquid running down and burning the back of my throat. This is one reason why I didn't drink, then again, I had to do something before I went insane.

"Hey there handsome," I heard a woman purr after a while, her arm touching mine in a sensual fashion.

I groaned inwardly at this, grimacing. Did I really look that much like a man? I mean, come on, really?

"Sorry, but I'm interested," I breathed, watching the surprise on her face when she heard my voice.

She then walked off afterward, her face full of embarrassment at her mistake. The same thing happened about five more time before I finally decided to take off my hat, letting my dark hair lay loose about my shoulders. It would keep the girls away, but unfortunately, not the men. So, before too long, I had a couple of them trying to sweet talk me back to their homes. The whole thing made me sick, but the liquor seemed to do worse after downing my fourth round. At that point, my mind was fuzzy, my thoughts melding together.

I went back toward the front again, picking up another drink, placing it on Whitt's tab. Again, I sighed, placing the glass to my forehead. The liquor was doing it's job little by little, but not as good as I had hoped. My thoughts still floated back to Lennie and George. Back to the good times and then to the bad. The bad being the death and the feeling of abandonment. Perhaps I had abandoned myself, but I wasn't sure. At this point, I really had no clue.

"Hey there darling," came the sound of a husky voice, the man's breath tickling my ear lightly.

I shivered at the feeling, moving away and back toward the wall, but it did me little good. The man followed me around as I walked through the place, eyes taking everything in. There were dancers up on the stage dressed in feathers and plooms, just kicking their legs up, the movements making me dizzy. I could hear the small talk around me, feeling it go through one ear and out the other. I felt lost within my own mind. Then, before I knew it, the guy that was following me and pushed me up against a wall. I could feel his hands on me as he pressed me into the wall, his face coming close to mine. He had me pinned there, a hand on either side of me.

"I think you're rather pretty," he purred drunkenly, running a hand over my cheek.

My head spun as I stood there, cringing on the inside at this man's touch, wishing to be away from him. I never was good with things like this. Once again, I found myself wishing for George's company. If he were here, he'd fix this, pulling the guy away from me. Although, the problem was, he wasn't here. George was long gone.

"He's gone…" I murmured faintly. "Everyone's…gone."

"Come on, why don't we have a bit of fun," he whispered in my ear.

My head was fuzzy and buzzing, but I still heard his words, I wasn't stupid. I was still somewhat coherent for the most part, but that didn't do me much good.

"I don't think so," I said dismissively, making to move away.

He grabbed me by my arm though, pulling me flush against him, a small groan escaping my lips. I was horrified as I stood there, trying to wiggle free.

"Come now, I won't bite," he chuckled, pulling me closer as he kissed my neck.

"Get off me," I groaned, pushing against him, but he just held tighter.

The second reason why I didn't drink, it made me dizzy and weak.

"Whitt? Slim?" I groaned, my head spinning.

"It's just you and me now."

I felt faint.

"Chris?"

It was Slim and from what I could see from my now blurry vision, he didn't look happy.

"Get your hands off of her," he growled, pushing the man off of me and holding me against him.

I said a silent thank you as I stood there, wrapping my arms around Slim's waist like a small child. Realization came to mind that he was tall and thin, it was no wonder his name was Slim. That was neither here nor there though, merely a half drunken thought, but it made me giggle faintly as I stood there. It also earned me a wary look from Slim, his hand moving to the side of my head, pulling it to his chest.

"I don't see your name on her pal," the other man growled.

"You don't have to, she's mine," Slim said boldly, his arms wrapping securely around my small form in an almost intimate way as though claiming his stake on me.

As always, he made me feel safe, my head resting against his chest. I could feel his strong arms around me, his warmth soaking into me, and his heart beating against my ear. The whole thing was like a lullaby as my mind became groggy, my legs going weak.

"Slim?" I whispered.

Before I knew it, I was slumped against him, his arms catching hold of me and pulling me closer. My mind went foggy and I finally slipped into darkness.

**Okay, that was chapter 11. I hope that everyone liked it. :) Not to mention, you got to see what the note said. I guess George realized to too late. Anyway, don't worry they'll be together again. Please, don't forget to REVIEW and MESSAGE me with your thoughts, opinions, ideas, and feelings on this chapter/story. I LOVE hearing FEEDBACK on my stories, so please give me some. Ideas are ALWAYS welcomed. Thanks everyone.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A Rancher's Touch**

**Chapter 12**

The next day came and went and before I knew it, it was Monday, and time to go back to work. Although, when I had woken up Sunday morning, I had felt like hell. I had a horrible hangover to deal with and a splitting headache. Never would I trust Whitt to order a drink for me again. That, and I'd stick to staying back at the bunk house on Saturday nights instead of going out. If I have to, I'll stick with sitting outside on the porch in the cold night air, my jacket wrapped around myself. Either that or I'd sit in the barn and talk with Crooks like I did every now and then. Either way, I wouldn't be going back out with them for a drink again, and that was that.

"Hey, Kingston!"

"Oh great," I groaned.

It was Curley and he was headed straight for me.

"What do you want?" I asked in agitation.

"Oh, well, I guess you don't want your mail then," he said in annoying tone.

"Give it here," I stated, holding my hand out.

He just grinned at me as he held it up, ripping it down the middle a moment later, before walking off laughing. I swear, he'd become more of an ass now that his wife was gone. Then again, I suppose it was to be expected as he tried to deal with it, but that didn't mean that I liked being at the receiving end of it.

"Jerk," I grumbled, bending down to pick it up.

I then pulled the letter from the torn envelope, opening it and resting the pieces next to one another. My lips parted at what I saw, my eyes watering a bit.

"George…" I whispered, a small smile tugging at my lips.

_Chris,_

_I made it out alright. I'm in Fresno now, even found a job. I suppose I should be happy, now I can finally hold a job if I want to, but I'm not. I found your letter after I got settled in. I'm just sorry that I couldn't stick around longer and get to know you better. I have to admit, it would have been nice. I've decided to take your advice though, to get that place. It's in Selma, but it's nice. I sent them a letter. It's all set. I'm just waiting for Candy now I guess. So, I suppose that'll be any day now, right? The month is about at an end. I probably wouldn't have been able to do all this without your help, so thank you. You really do have a heart of gold Chris and that's something special. I may not be good at words, but at least I can write. What you did for me, it meant a lot and I'll never forget it. I can honestly say, no one has ever been that kind. So thank you, thank you for everything._

_Your friend,_

_George Milton_

I stood there, my eyes spotty. He was safe, I'd done my job. I also knew that he'd never forget. It also made me happy, knowing that he was going to keep trying, that he'd settle down in that place he wanted. It made me sad though because I knew that meant Candy would also be leaving then, heading toward Selma.

Again, I felt something tugging at heart, a pain of sorts. I wasn't sure what it was, but it still hurt. Perhaps it was envy. Now, George would finally be able to get away from everything and be happy. He'd be able to have something normal, something solid, something that was his. Me, I didn't have that, I didn't have any of that. Sure, I had Slim on my side, his company. I wouldn't have that forever though. I'd leave in another month or two probably like I always did. Either that or I'd be canned because of Curley. If that happened, I wouldn't be around him anymore. Hell, I had a feeling things wouldn't last passed another month and then I'd be alone again like I always was. All I had was an empty road ahead of me with nothing to look forward to. Nothing to hold onto save for my memories.

"Chris?" it was Slim.

"Y-yeah?" I choked out, turning around to look at him.

"Somethin wrong?" he asked, placing a hand on my arm.

That's when his eyes caught sight of my letter, leaning over to read it. A small smile formed on his face afterwards.

"He made it alright. That's great," he smiled.

"Yeah," I whispered, trying my best to mirror his smile.

"That's not the problem though, is it?" he asked, picking up on my sadness.

I shook my head, running a hand through my hair with a sigh.

"No, it's not…"

"Why don't you come with me," he suggested, placing a hand on my back.

I followed him as he led me toward the barn, helping me inside. It gave us a bit of privacy away from prying eyes like Curley or others that might poke fun.

"Now, why don't you tell me what's goin on?" Slim suggested, leaning up against one of the beams.

I just sat down on the pile of grain filled bags, placing my head in my hands for a moment.

"I'm happy for him, I really am," I told him, looking up from my hands.

"But?"

"But…I feel like I'll never get to where he is…" I whispered, raking a hand into my hair, gripping it lightly.

I heard him sigh as I sat there, feeling a weight beside me a moment later.

"That you'll never have a happy life somewhere, is that it?" he asked, looking into my eyes.

"Yeah…" I nodded, letting loose a sigh. "I don't want to be stuck doing this my entire life," I said, gesturing around me.

"No one does," he breathed. "Heck, if I thought I could get out of this place, I would," he told me.

"But you can Slim," I told him. "I mean, what am I gonna do? I'm a woman for crying out loud. No one takes me seriously," I sighed.

He knew it was true, just like I did. Men could do anything they wanted, get any job they wanted, but what about me. No, I was a woman, limited on everything. Not to mention, I'd be damned if I ended up working in a cathouse. That was out of the question for sure.

"It's only going to be a matter of time and then I'm outta here, just like every other time," I whispered, laying my head in my arms. "I've been doing this for eight years now Slim…I'm tired of it."

"And when that happens, you'll be missed greatly," Slim said, giving my shoulder a light squeeze.

"How have I gotten by without you all these years?" I asked, turning to look at him.

He just chuckled, ruffling my hair a bit.

"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for Chris," Slim said. "I got a question for ya though."

"Yeah?"

He paused for a moment before speaking, his chin resting in the palm of his hand.

"Say he'd asked you to go with him, would you have done it?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked hesitantly.

"You know what I mean Chris. I've been around for a while, so I know when I see people spark an interest with one another, when they click," he told me.

I just looked down at my hands, twiddling my thumbs for a moment.

"I don't know, maybe," I shrugged.

"Chris, I've seen how you are around me, it was the same thing with him. We both know that doesn't happen often," he chuckled.

"Leave me alone. I don't trust easily and you know that," I whined, feeling my face heat up.

"You know Whitt'd be worse," he smiled.

I grimaced at this, knowing how true his statement was. Whit would be ten times worse about it. Not to mention, I had a feeling he'd caught on to things a while back, apparently picking up on something that I hadn't. Either that or he was just trying to be a serious pain in the butt.

"Don't remind me," I groaned, before standing up.

"Well, we should probably head back outside before we get canned," he joked, standing up, before throwing an arm over my shoulders.

From there, he led me back outside and toward the bunk house, a few of the others already inside.

"Hey, Slim, do you mind if I stay out here for a while?" I asked.

"Sure, just come in before it gets dark out?" he asked, knowing that I had a habit of staying outside later than I should.

"Alright."

T

I'm sorry to say that I didn't exactly listen, but what did he expect, I liked looking up at the stars. It was something that gave me peace of mind at times because I knew they'd always be there, they'd always last, and they'd never change.

That's what I thought about as I sat outside, George's letter gripped in my hands as I thought things through. I had to have read it at least several times over by now. It really hit me and left me thinking what I'd end up doing with my life. No matter how much I liked Slim, I couldn't stay here for the rest of my life. I couldn't keep going from ranch to ranch for the rest of my life either. I felt stuck.

"I can't keep doing this," I whispered, running a hand through my hair.

I'd go stir crazy if I was left to do this all of my life. Getting up early, going out to the fields, moving barley bags and other things. Eventually, I'd lose my sanity, and that would be it. That just wasn't something that I wanted to do. I mean sure, it'd like be a couple more years or more before I was able to do anything else, but still. I mean, wasn't eight years of my life enough? I'd been dressed as a man for nearly a third of my life; it was time for me to be seen as woman. Not that I minded dressing the way that I did, it was the hiding that bothered me, having to hide my identity just to get a job. That was another reason that I had started going by Chris a few years ago instead of Christine. They see Christine Kingston on the work slip, you might as well throw it away and say the hell with it. Now, if they see Chris Kingston, you might have a chance. I was tired of having to rely on that.

"Chris?"

I turned my head toward Slim's voice, watching as he stepped outside, his tall figure standing on the porch. How I would miss his face when I left. His charming smile and honest nature, everything that was Slim, I would miss. So, with a final look at the sky I stood, walking back toward the porch where he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. This man was my friend and our friendship would always stand.

**Alright, that was chapter 12. Chris finally heard back from George and realization seems to hit her to a degree. The end of this chapter was foreshadowing for the next. So, I'm guessing you can figure out what happens next. Anyway, don't forget to REVIEW and MESSAGE me with your thoughts, opinions, ideas, and feelings on this chapter/ story. I LOVE hearing FEEDBACK for my stories. It's makes me happy and keeps me writing. Anyway, thanks for reading. I'm starting chapter 13 as I speak, so keep an eye out and it should be up shortly today. Thanks everyone!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A Rancher's Touch**

**Chapter 13**

Two years later, I found myself on the road again, dragging my feet along. As I had feared, Curley had gotten me canned about two months after George's letter had found me. Although, he was kind enough to let me finish up my work so I could get my months pay, but still. I'd say that leaving Slim was the hardest. He had become my only stability, so after I was fired, I didn't know what to do. I just found myself traveling again, going from county to county, all the way up the coast into Oregon and Washington, even venturing into Utah's Salt Lake City. I never felt at home though, just felt lost. The only thing that kept me going was the occasional letters from Slim and George if I managed to stay in one place long enough.

My problem had been keeping my gender a secret. I'd messed up a few times and gotten canned because the owners hadn't been very open minded. They thought I should be inside a house somewhere, having children, cooking, and sewing clothes. In fact, one of them tried convincing me to marry them. It was ridiculous. Unfortunately, all my traveling to find jobs left me with little money after buying food at times. This was why I was heading away from Tecopa city in Inyo County, heading straight for Fresno.

If I was lucky, I'd manage to find George, but that was only if I could make it through the cold. Winter never was very kind and right now I was freezing. I was already sick as it was from traveling around in the chilly rain. My legs burned like fire as I kept walking, the rain pelting down on me, soaking through my hat and clothes. I'd probably been walking for at least three or four hours now without stop, just trudging through the rain. It was the one thing that I hated about these country roads, sometimes there would be a house for miles around.

I groaned when I slipped, falling straight into the mud, the muck now covering my face and clothes. I shivered as I laid there for a moment, slowly pushing myself up with my hands. I felt so weak, my breath coming out in heaves. I was afraid of what would happen if I didn't get inside somewhere soon.

"I…I can't…stop now," I told myself, hesitantly pushing myself up onto my feet.

I then grabbed my bindle from the ground, placing it back on my shoulder again, before stumbling forward. I couldn't stop, not now, not when I was so close. So, I slowly pushed forward despite the chilling down pour, the water splashing beneath my feet.

T

George sat there by the stove, the fire burning bright. It was cold outside and raining, so he decided to say the hell with work and stay inside. Candy had passed away in his sleep the previous winter, so he was by his self now with no one to talk to, merely resting in his solitude. At least he had accomplished his dream though, having a place of his own. It's what he had always wanted, but never thought would really happen. He was then reminded of Chris and her generosity. Without her help, he never would have made it this far. Without her help, he likely would have given up on all of it.

Over the last two years, they'd been sending letters back and forth with one another, keeping each other updated. He could honestly say that he wasn't happy when he found out that Curley had gotten her canned or that the little punk had torn up his letter in front of her, but that was neither here nor there. At this point, he probably had over a dozen letters that had been collected through the last couple of years. While he had stayed in one place, Chris had traveled all over. She had gone all over California, up into Oregon and Washington. She'd even gone as far as Nevada and Utah, then back again through California. Last he knew, she was over in Tecopa city over in Inyo. It had been over a month since her last letter though, leaving him a bit worried. She had made it clear that she wasn't happy though and that's why she never stayed in one place, so he was never sure if his letters would reach her or not. If they didn't, he was left waiting until she wrote him one instead.

With that thought in his mind, he stood up, making his way up the stairs to his room. He then went over to his nightstand, pulling the draw open to reveal a pile of letters. Each and every one was from Chris. He sat down and pulled them out, letting his fingers trace over the delicate handwriting that was hers. Some of her letters were short, others were longer. The longest had probably been about two pages. He didn't mind though, he loved reading them. Sometimes, he'd even find himself reading them at nice when he had nothing else to do, just something to take his mind off of things. That was George for you. He still wondered if he'd ever see her again though. After all, it had been two years. At this point she would have moved on with her life. There was even a chance that she'd already met someone and maybe that was why he hadn't gotten another letter. Perhaps, she'd finally forgotten about him.

George sighed as he rummaged through them, eyes flitting over her handwriting. It made him realize just how much he missed her company, even though he had only had it for a short time, it was still special in his mind. He just found it sad that he had forgotten what her laughter sounded like, though he would never forget her smile, that he knew. He could still see her smiling face in his mind's eye. From her gentle blue green eyes, her soft light brown hair, and the glow of her face. He could see it all as if it were yesterday. Her face would be forever in his memory.

T

I didn't stop until I saw the house in the distance, a little blue two story house with a windmill and a barn. A smile pulled at my lips as I stood there, my eyes becoming watery. I was almost there. After walking for so long, it was finally in my sights, just down the path.

I felt relief wash over me as I got closer, trudging up what would have been a dirt trail had it been dry out. My feet pushed through the mud, carrying me toward the house. My legs were tired and heavy, my breath pulling in and out. I was so cold, so tired, so exhausted. It felt like I couldn't even take another step, but when I saw the light in the house, it helped push me just a bit further.

"Almost…there…" I breathed, pushing forward until I was right in front of the house.

I just hoped that he was awake. So with one final pushed, I climbed the steps of the porch, making the last couple of steps to the door. I was ready to collapse any second as I knocked on the door a few times, shaking my head to keep myself awake. I could hear shuffling upstairs and the sounds of hurried footsteps. Within seconds the door was open, leaving the man before me shocked beyond belief.

"Chris?" he choked out, his eyes looking me over almost in a frantic manner as if I weren't real, like he was dreaming.

"I…made it…" I breathed, my legs giving out a moment later.

"Chris!" he cried, his arms wrapping around me and catching me before I could hit the porch.

At this point I couldn't even stand, my voice nearly failing me as my head found his shoulder.

"My God, you're soaking wet," he cried, pulling me inside and out of the cold.

I shivered as I stood there in his arms, my mind going in and out of consciousness. I was so tired.

"Chris, how did you get here?" he asked, sitting down with me on the floor in front of the fire.

"I…I walked…" I breathed, trying my best to stay away.

"You walked? You walked all the way here?" he asked in disbelief, his hand coming to rest on my cheek. "Chris, how long were you out in the rain?"

His hand felt nice against my skin, the warmth radiating off of his touch.

"I…I don't know…" I whispered, leaning into his touch. "Four…five hours at least."

"You walked all the way from town, didn't you?" he asked quietly.

I just nodded my head before letting out a groan. I was so tired. So very, very tired.

"You're crazy, you know that?" he said, his hand brushing lightly against my cheek, before pushing the wet hair from my face.

"I'm so cold…" I whispered, shivering as I closed my eyes.

"I'll be right back, okay? I'm gonna get you some dry clothes, alright?" he said.

I nodded my head quietly as he got up and went upstairs, my head coming to rest against the floor, the heat from the stove comforting me. It felt so nice.

T

George ran upstairs quickly, his body on autopilot. He rarely ever had visitors, nonetheless ones when it was raining. So, he was obviously shocked when he'd opened up his door and found who it was. Chris was the last person that he had expected to see. Granted, he wasn't complaining, but she looked terrible. That, and she had the sense to walk over fifteen miles to his home in the cold winter rain of all things. She was completely soaked to the bone and covered in mud. To make matter worse, it looked like she was already sick, and if he didn't get her out of those clothes soon then he took a chance of her catching pneumonia. That was a risk that he wasn't willing to take.

"Alright, I have…" he stopped as he got to the bottom of the stairs.

She was laying there curled up on the floor in front of the stove asleep.

He sighed at this, quietly stepping forward, clothes in hand. He's grabbed one of his shirts and a pair of cotton pants from his dresser, only to find her sleeping.

"Chris," he called lightly, kneeling down beside her and shaking her shoulder.

She didn't stir though, so he tried again.

"Chris."

Again, nothing. He sighed at this, running a hand through his hair. Unfortunately, he knew what he had to do, he just hoped she didn't smack him for it later.

**Okay everyone, that was chapter 13. I REALLY hope that everyone liked it? After two long years, Chris finally made it back to George. What will happen next though, especially since she's sick? REVIEW or MESSAGE and find out. You do NOT have to have an account to submit a REVIEW. Anyway, thanks everyone!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A Rancher's Touch**

**Chapter 14**

The next three days, George was left to take care of Chris, watching her while she slept. The day after she had arrived, he'd gone into town to see the doctor, leading him back to his home. It was as he had feared, she had gotten pneumonia. A few times, she had ended up coughing in her sleep, coughing so bad she had nearly stopped breathing a few times. That was another reason why he had kept close watch on her. It scared him to see her like this, but he'd help her through it, he had to.

Again, George found himself in the kitchen heating up some water on the stove. He still had to clean her up a bit, wash her hair, something. He couldn't just let her lay there like that. So, once he was done, he went back upstairs.

She was still laying there when he opened up the door, her head tilted to the side on the pillow, eyes shut. He hadn't seen her eyes since she arrived and now he was praying that she would merely open them. As he took a closer look at her, he noticed that her hair was shorter than he remembered. It used to be longer at about her shoulders at least. Now, it reminded him of his own, cropped short to her ears. He also noticed the scar that she now had on her face resting below her left eye. George allowed his thumb to brush over the scar as he stood there, feeling the slightly raised skin. He sighed a moment later, before pulling the wet cloth from the bowl, gently pressing it to her face.

"You look like hell," he whispered, gently wiping the dirt from her face.

Her face looked so pale as she laid there. George just hoped that she'd regain some of her color in the next few days, that way he'd know that she was improving. Still, he had to wait though, wait for her to wake up.

For the next hour he continued to sit there, gently cleaning what was left of the dirt on her skin and hair. He'd even taken care of her feet, wrapping the blistered skin. He could only imagine how she'd feel when she finally woke up, so he'd hoped to make things just a bit easier.

T

I wasn't sure where I was as I laid there in darkness, but I had a feeling that it was somewhere safe. It was warmer than the rain, so I figured that I was likely inside some place. I could see the flickering of what I could only assume to be candle light through the lids of my eyes, dancing around like magic. The feeling of warmth that it gave off was comfortable, lulling me back to sleep.

T

George stood there outside, staring out at the ten acres he owned, a small smile forming on his face. It was everything he could have ever wanted and more, everything him and Lennie had dreamed of. Yet, he was all alone with no one to share it with. He didn't even know how long Chris would be in his company, before she went elsewhere. It was just as she had told him, she'd never stayed in one place for too long. Why would this be any different? If he was lucky, she'd stick around for a few weeks after she was better, but that'd be it.

"It won't last," he sighed, moving toward the barn.

He needed to feed the horses and cows. He'd learned a few years ago through ranching that keeping the cattle inside during winter was a smart move, so he'd made sure that he followed it. Although, currently he only had three, two cows and a bull. One of the two females was currently pregnant with a calf in her womb, leaving her in need of extra food and water. That also meant more trips out to the barn. He didn't mind though because he needed to go out there every few days anyway to continue on repairs. There were bits and pieces that were falling apart and needed to be replaced. He'd been doing the same thing around the farm since he had gotten it, fixing it up as best he could. The next thing that he'd be fixing would be the porch on the house.

"So much to do," he breathed, tossing some hay into the cows' stalls, along with the horses'.

He had three horses in total, each a different color. One was actually the one that Chris had given him those two years ago in an attempt to escape. He was a warm brown color with a thick mane and tail, a white star on his head between the eyes, and white socks. He was a beautiful thing with a gentle nature. That's what George loved about him, that, and the fact that Chris had been the one to give it to him. The second horse was a beautiful white, her mane mixed with grays, the same as her tail. This horse had yet to be tamed fully, giving him trouble on occasion. Finally, the third was pure black colt with bright blue eyes. He was a curious thing, fairly smart, but overwhelming at times. That didn't stop George from taking good care of him though. Far from it to be honest.

"Good boy," he cooed, stroking the horse's nose softly.

He pushed against George's hand, before nipping at his jacket, pulling him.

"Knock it off," George said, tapping the colt's nose lightly with the tips of his fingers.

The horse just nehed at him as if laughing, causing George to raise an eyebrow in question. This horse always had found fun in messing around with him, playing games as it were, today was no different.

T

When I finally woke up, it was for the need of air. I couldn't help, but to cough, unable to bring any back to my lungs. A hand went to my throat as I hunched over, coughing up a storm. I just couldn't seem to stop, even as I heard the sound of footsteps rushing up stairs. I could barely draw breath.

"Chris?"

It was George, his face screwed tight with worry, feet rushing over to the bed. A moment later, I felt his hand on my shoulders, gripping them lightly. I was frantic, making it harder to breathe.

"Chris, Chris, you have to calm down," George said, his hand coming to rest upon my cheek.

I still coughed though, but having near me calmed me down a bit, and after about ten minutes I was able to breathe. It was ragged though, rough even, but still there. I felt myself gasp a few times though as I sat there, breath heaving. He sat there with me the whole time, his hand on my cheek, the warmth of it soaking into my skin. It was comforting, soothing even, it gave me peace.

"I feel terrible," I croaked, my voice coming out as a rasp.

"Here," he said, grabbing the glass from the nightstand and placing it in my hand.

It was filled with water and I drank it eagerly, gulping it down, coughing afterward.

"Just take it easy," he said gently, pushing my bangs out of my face.

They barely stayed put after that though given the length, but he still tried nonetheless. This made me smile on the inside. He hadn't changed in the least that I could tell. Still kind and gentle, though obviously quiet and perceptive as always.

"George, where…" I looked around me, taking everything in.

It was a small room, but not too small that you couldn't move around comfortably. Like any normal room there was a dresser and nightstand, a bed for which I was set on, even a small mirror on the wall.

"You're in my room," he explained, causing me to look at him.

"How…" I breathed, closing my eyes.

"You came knocking on my doorstep, remember?" he reminded me.

After that, I came to realization. He was right, I had wound up on his doorstep, in the rain no less. At that point, I also remembered that my clothes had been soaking wet and that I'd been covered in mud no less. As I looked down though, I was met with a surprise, my cheeks heating up. He seemed to notice this, raising his hands in defense.

"I didn't look, I swear," he assured me.

I just looked away in embarrassment. He had changed my clothes, including peeling away my undergarments. I'd say that's what embarrassed me the most. No man had ever had me in my undergarments, not ever. It was even more embarrassing because it was George of all people.

"I was…afraid that you might smack me," he said quietly, hesitantly almost.

This caused me to look at him, licking my bottom lip.

"I trust that you were being honest," I spoke softly, staring into his eyes.

"I'm sure that you realize, I'm not the kind of man to, well you know."

I watched as faint redness painted his face, his hand scratching the back of his neck. It was true, I knew that he wasn't that kind of person. If he was, then I wouldn't be here, I wouldn't be anywhere near here.

"I don't feel so good," I whispered, leaning forward until my head came to rest on his shoulder.

I felt his hand come to press against my back, rubbing it gently. It felt nice. He was gentle with me, just as he had been two years ago with Lennie. I groaned after a moment though, holding my stomach, it growled angrily.

"You must be hungry," he concluded, moving stand.

I grabbed his hand before he could go very far though, holding it in mine. His eyes found mine a moment later, a questioning glance in them.

"Thank you," I whispered, a small smile making its way onto my face.

He just smiled at me, before walking out the door and down the stairs, his footsteps echoing behind him.

**Here's chapter 14! I hope that everyone likes it? Please, REVIEW and MESSAGE me with your thoughts, opinions, ideas, and feelings on this chapter/story. I love hearing FEEDBACK. It keeps me writing and happy. Anyway, thanks everyone! :)**


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